Thief
by TragicMagic14
Summary: I've been working at the Hylian Triforce Protection Agency for longer than I can remember. It never occurred to me that I might not have been fighting on the right side all these years; not until I'd met that weird, green-clad thief who flipped my perception of reality upside-down. Throw in the school hottie, a whole lot of secrets, some teenage angst and BAM! you have my life.
1. Museum Mishaps

**Hullo fellow fic writers and readers alike! This is a story I've been just _dying _to write for a really long time! **

**P.S. You know what freaking hilarious? When I wrote Ghirahim in Microsoft word, the spell check corrected it to Her/him! Oh the irony! XD**

**Warning: Rated T for language and suggestive humour**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

** THIEF**

**Chapter one—Museum Mishaps**

* * *

"This is the right place, yeah?" Vaati asked from the backseat in his heavily-accented drawl.

"Why, of course it is." Ghirahim purred, absently licking his lips with that freakishly long tongue of his. "Miss Impa has never been wrong before."

My sympathies went out to poor Nabooru, who had to endure sitting between those two weirdoes. But it was only fair; I'd sat between them last time.

"Yes." Impa answered from next to me in the driver's seat, as she eased into a parking space.

The parking lot of the Museum of Ordon was empty at this late hour. Fitting, as it closes at seven and it was currently eleven-thirty.

The museum was rather small, probably even smaller than my ramshackle high school—which carried a population of less than five-hundred. After all, Ordon was the smallest city of Hyrule, known as the 'hick town' by the people in big cities such as Kakariko and Castletown. I was glad that this was a local job, so I'd only miss one day of school this time.

Impa parked our van and undid her seatbelt. I slipped my cowl on and did the same.

"Miss Impa, there is something that has always mystified me about our dear Miss Zelda." Ghirahim said, leaning past Nabooru and Vaati in the back seat. "Why exactly does she have to conceal her identity?"

Impa growled under her breath, and turned her crimson gaze to meet his dark one. "You know why, Ghirahim."

"Refresh my memory, Mistress." He droned. "For I do not remember."

"It's 'cause she's the Princess, okay?" Nabooru cut in, obviously annoyed with the conversation and eager to get away from those two. "She's gotta make sure no one sees her with us or the shit will hit the fan!"

Ah, yes. The 'p' word. That's what I was; the Princess of Destiny. As in, the destined one who helped the badass Hero defeat evil in several lifetimes. As in, the holder of one-third of the most powerful thing in existence. As in, the reincarnation of a flipping Goddess (I still had yet to fully wrap my head around _that _part of my history). I even had the little interlocking-triangles birthmark on my right hand to prove it.

"It was merely a question." Ghirahim said, pretending to be offended. "I meant not to annoy you, Miss Nabooru."

"Stop adding 'Miss' and 'Mister' before everybody's names, ya friggin' weirdo!" She snapped, exasperated. "It's the twenty-first century, for Din's sake!"

I bit back a giggle and Impa's lips twitched slightly.

"Nabooru," Impa warned half-heartedly. "Leave him be. We're expected to meet the owner of the museum in a few minutes, so please calm down and make a good impression." She stares at the three of them through the rear-view mirror, one platinum blond eyebrow raised. "That goes for all of you."

We all exited the car into the chilly air of the deserted parking lot and made our way to the glass double-doors of the museum.

As the five of us entered, I spotted an aging, round man pacing nervously near one of the exhibits. What was left of his longish, greying hair was pulled back into a stubby ponytail; he also had one of those stereotypical old-man beards and wore a long, billowing robe. Can you say Hippy Grandpa?

Finally, he spotted us approaching and he stopped pacing. "Ah! You've finally arrived!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Impa nod once and hold out her hand for shaking.

"Mr Gaebora, I am Impa Peers and these are my associates." She gestured to us by name. "Vaati Vaughn, Nabooru Kingsford, Ghirahim Leighton, and Sheik Peers."

Mr. Gaebora shook her outstretched hand. "I'm glad to have representatives from HTPA. Someone had tried to steal the Shield earlier today. He wasn't successful, but we didn't catch him either." The old man tapped his fingers against his chin anxiously.

HTPA was were I worked. It stood for Hylian Triforce Protection Agency.

I'd been at the agency as long as I could remember, training like all of the other employees of HTPA. Only I knew I wasn't like all the others; I was like all of the artefacts we were protecting. Much like the Shield Mr. Gaebora was talking about, I was one of the things the Triforce Seekers were searching for, but I was even more valuable. I had one third of the Triforce within me, after all, and that's supposedly how my parents were killed—by power-hungry Triforce Seekers who wanted my power so badly, they were willing to murder. If the agency hadn't stepped in, I probably would've been prisoner of these awful people even now. Because of all this, the agency was worried that someone might know that I was working for them. And so, my alter-ego as Sheik Peers was born.

"Do you have any sort of description of this man?" Impa asked, crossing her muscled arms.

"Boy," Mr. Gaebora corrected. "They think he was rather young, perhaps a teenager or young adult. Other than that, we have no further information."

I heard Impa grunt, taking in the lack of information.

"My apologies for the minimal information—." Mr. Gaebora started to apologize.

Impa held up a yielding hand and he fell silent. "It doesn't matter. If he appears again, we'll catch him."

* * *

Impa had assigned herself, Vaati and Ghirahim to patrol outside while Nabooru and I watched over the artefact at the exhibit.

"I don't get how Impa trusts those weirdies," Nabooru said, as she absent-mindedly ran her fingertips over the glass case that held the Shield. "I mean, they're both totally freaky as all hell."

"I know, right?" I agreed, shivering. "They're both so…" I paused, struggling for the right word. "Odd." I finished lamely.

Nabooru put her hands to her hips. "And their sexual preferences are questionable to say least. Is it just me, or does it seem like them two only have eyes for each other?"

I doubled over in a fit of giggles. It was so true, too. Practically every man at HTPA has had at least one wet dream starring Nabooru Kingsford— the twenty-one year-old warrior chick who wears a midriff to training —and yet both Vaati and Ghirahim haven't looked once in her direction.

I finally regained my composure, only to have her wink at me and send me into another giggle-fest.

Finally, I was done with laughing and Nabooru let out a big, airy sigh. "This is boring!" She yelled to no one in particular.

"We should've brought cards." I mused, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Hell yeah!" Nabooru agreed, standing next to me. "I'd whoop your ass at Uno."

"You could try," I countered, polishing my nails on my shirt. "But we all know I'm the world-champion of Uno and the ass-whooping would be done by me."

"Psh. You wish, Blondie." Nabooru snorted, kicking the ground.

"I don't wish, Nab." I corrected. "I know."

"Okay, I gotta hit the can!" Nabooru suddenly announced. "Will ya live without me for a few minutes, Blondie?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Yucko. Just go, Nab. I'm sure I'll survive."

She walked off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving me alone with the artefact I had an infuriating amount in common with.

The Shield was one of the of the items used by the Hero in his conquests, and the thing demanded big bucks nowadays in many underground black markets. Apparently, obtaining the Hero's weapons was almost as good as obtaining the actual Hero himself. Or me, being the Princess, I suppose.

I stood up and stared into the case, at the ancient object. The thing was said to be over a thousand years old, hand-crafted by a guardian dragon and utterly impenetrable. And it showed; the thing didn't look at all degraded by age.

Suddenly, I heard a distant crash. I stiffened and readied myself for a threat, twisting around to scan the room.

It became eerily quiet and still.

I didn't move. Whoever was here, they'd have to get past me to get the Shield.

Behind me there was a very quiet squeak—like that of shoes against a waxed floor— but I still heard it. I whirled around swiftly to find a guy standing behind me, leaning casually against the glass container.

I squeaked in surprise and jumped back.

He was wearing a garb similar to mine, Sheikian, that covered most of his face aside from his eyes and nose. But while mine was a deep blue colour, his was a dark green that would look almost black outside of the light.

His eyes were a deep, brilliant blue that glimmered playfully under his mask; and judging from the crinkle on the sides of his eyes, it seemed he was smiling at me. Chunks of tawny hair poked out from beneath his cowl, and from the small patch of skin I could see around his eyes, he was lightly tanned. Under the suit, I could also tell he was lean-muscled, but not those iky, steroid-pumped muscles some guys have going on.

"Damn. Guess I'm busted, huh?" He says in a deep, smooth voice which I might've found seriously sexy if he wasn't the enemy.

"Yeah," I replied, readying myself for attack. "You are."

He held up his hands in surrender, and I noticed he'd already retrieved the Shield from its case.

I blinked. How hadn't I noticed that?

"Hey now," The folds near his eyes deepened. He was grinning. "We can just talk this over. No need to get violent."

I started circling him. "Scared?" I taunted, trying to provoke him.

He shook his head, unfazed. "Not for me. I just simply feel it wouldn't be a fair fight."

I glared at the mystery guy, vaguely wondering when Nabooru would be returning.

"Sheik, is it?" He asked. "I'm known as Astley."

I froze. How did he know the name of my alter-ego?

He chuckled; a very appealing sound. "Judging by your reaction, I'm guessing I'm right?"

I didn't answer and continued to circle him like a wolf around prey.

"Sheik, I have to say; you're a little rude around guests." He stops leaning on the glass case, but still appeared to be grinning.

"How do you know my name?" I spat, glad that he at least didn't call me Zelda. That would've been bad.

"I heard your mother introduce you to the museum man, Mr. Gaebora." Astley said with a shrug. He leans toward me, and I realized that not only did he have the most gorgeous eyes I'd ever seen, but he also possessed the longest lashes I'd ever seen on a guy. "But I bet that's not your real name,"

I froze again, my eyes widening.

Seeing my reaction, he straightened himself. "Its fine," He shrugged those lean shoulders of his again. "Astley isn't my real name either."

I blinked. This guy is seriously confusing me, and I was losing my patience with his little mind games.

I kicked out, aiming for that sweet spot between his legs that would ultimately land him on the ground, begging for mercy.

He reached out with his empty hand and snatched my ankle before I hit my mark, not in a way that hurt, but firm enough to effectively halt my attack.

"Let go!" I snapped between clenched teeth as I attempted to wiggle my ankle from his grasp.

"Now, _that_ was definitely rude." Astley-or-whatever-his-name-was said with false offence. "Not only did you try to assault me, but you tried to assault me where it hurts."

I hobbled, the leg I was supporting myself with beginning to tire.

He dropped my foot and I fell on my butt, probably bruising not only my tailbone, but my pride as well. I was outmatched, and it sucked.

"Sheik!" I suddenly heard Nabooru cry anxiously from somewhere, distant in the museum's halls. "Sheik! Someone locked me in the bathroom! Stay on guard, I'm commin'!"

I glared up at the mystery guy. "Your handiwork, I presume?" I asked, trying to distract him until Nabooru got here. No matter how good he was, he can't take both of us on.

Not-Astley's brow disappeared into his cowl. "Would you have preferred I killed her?"

My breath hitched. "No…" I admitted.

Evidently satisfied with that answer, Not-Astley started to turn away.

Now desperate, I hooked an ankle around his and tripped him. He didn't fall, but he did drop the Shield.

"Shit!" I heard him curse as Nabooru's hurried footsteps echoed in the hall.

He chucked something at the ground and disappeared in a flash of green.

I blinked until the glare went away to find that Not-Astley had vanished, but the artefact was still lying discarded on the floor.

Nabooru burst into the room, looking frazzled and pissed right off. "Sheik! Sheik, what happened? Is he still here?"

I shook my head, feeling like a failure. "He got away."

* * *

My real name is Zelda Genevieve Harkinian. I am seventeen years old, blonde, blue-eyed, and pale as the moon. I live in a small, three bedroom home with my guardian Impa, my adoptive sister Nabooru, and my new tawny-brown kitten, Peanut—a recent addition to our household. I attend Ordon High School, and even have my own beat-up, two-decade-old Chevy I drive to school in everyday.

I was only allowed to live this somewhat normal life and leave the HTPA under two conditions: one, at the first sign that my cover's been blown, I return to the agency immediately. Two, we have to pay our own way. I'll never be able to repay Impa and Nabooru for sinking every dollar they had into this house—into a real life for me.

I never wanted to return to living in the agency. The place was cold and unwelcoming; it wasn't a home.

* * *

After taking a day off of school to catch up on sleep, and being assured time after time that Not-Astley's escape wasn't my fault, I went on with my daily morning routine. I woke up, had a shower, brushed my teeth, ate breakfast, got dressed and left the house.

I pulled into my best friend, Midna Llewellyn's, house and honked my truck's powerful horn self-importantly.

I spied her pale face peeking behind the black curtains of her bedroom window, and gave her one long, extra-loud honk until she disappeared from sight.

Her front door opened up, and Midna stepped out. She'd always been really tall and willowy, with narrow, striking features. Her long, bright-orange hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail and streaked with black and aquamarine. Much like me, she was cursed with incredibly pale skin—a woe on which we'd bonded back in sixth-grade, when she first moved to Ordon. She wore a black vest over a white tank-top and a long, black skirt that reached her ankles. The tips of her big black combat-boots poked out from under her skirt. A part of me wondered how she could possibly survive wearing such an outfit on a particularly warm day in April, but another part of me applauded her for doing so.

Midna was really into old fairy tales about twili magic and sorcery and all that jazz—she was known as the town witch. She really played it up too, mostly to annoy and/or freak out the judgy crowd at Ordon High. A lot of people avoided her because of this, but not me. After all, my mere existence was a product of magic; who was I to deny her beliefs about it?

Midna tossed a quick goodbye behind her to her dad, who stood at her front door. She marched down her driveway, yanked open the passenger door, and threw herself onto the creaky seat next to me.

"The twilight gods thank you, Zel," She said sarcastically as I pulled out of her driveway. "You've successfully managed to wake up the neighbours."

I grinned, staring out the back window. "Wow. I didn't think they'd be too impressed with me doing that. Guess I was wrong."

I could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "So, where were you yesterday? I had to take the bus." She asked, tightening her bright-orange ponytail idly.

I shrugged. "I slept in a bit too late." Not entirely a lie. I _had_ slept in… to about one p.m. I was just leaving out _why_ I'd slept in. "Impa let me stay home."

Midna punched my truck's dash board. "Damn you! My Dad wouldn't let me stay home if I died!"

I giggled. "Hey, just because you're jealous doesn't mean you can take it out on my truck."

Midna crossed her fair, thin arms over her chest and sighed. "But I'm just so damn pissed that you get to stay home whenever your little heart desires, while I have to be puking my guts out to even get _considered_ a sick day!"

I shrugged, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with the subject as we pulled into Ford Ranch; also known as Malon's house.

Malon Ford, our other red-haired friend, stood on the rickety front porch of her house with her backpack ready.

Today she had pulled her unruly, bright-red hair back with a blue bandanna, and let it tumble down her tanned shoulders. She wore a light-blue ribbed tank top, and pair of ripped skinny jeans tucked into her signature mud-caked cowboy-boots.

She was another rare person at school who was able to look past Midna's charming little quirks, like me.

Malon threw open the back door and tossed her backpack onto the back seat.

"Hey," I warned before she stepped in. "Don't drag mud in here! I just cleaned it this weekend!"

Malon rolled her blue eyes and proceeded to kick the mud off of her boots against my truck.

"See, Midna?" I gestured to Malon as she slid in the seat behind me, boots now delightfully mud-free. "_She's_ ready on time." I cut eyes to Midna. "Why can't you?"

"Yeah, lazybum." Malon added. "If I can do it, so can you."

"I say," I mused as I backed out her long driveway. "We strap a rocket to Midna's ass. That way, she'll ever be late."

"And _I_ say we install a zipper on Zelda's mouth," Midna retorted. "That way, she'll never talk."

"I opt for both." Malon said cheerfully as Midna and I glared at her through the rear-view mirror.

Malon chuckled. "Ha, sorry. I just couldn't leave that one." She flipped open her phone, and gasped. "Oh, I just remembered! Sari doesn't need a ride today; she's getting one from Mido.

"Really?" Midna asked, raising a copper brow at Malon. "When do you think he'll finally grow some balls and actually ask her out?"

"Who knows?" Malon answered.

"Probably when he's eighty and they don't work anymore." I guessed.

My two red-headed friends snickered at my comment as Ordon High came into view.

Ordon High was your average high school, except, you guessed it, smaller. It was a two-story, flat-roofed, red-brick building with an army of bright-yellow school buses lined up around the front doors. There was a big white sign out front that blared in bold black letters 'Ordon High School, Home Of The Knights'.

I parked, and the three of us made our way to the front doors, dodging the obligatory crowds filing into the school.

"So," Malon said as we walked down the fairly narrow halls of Ordon High. "Zellie, you look kinda tired today."

I yawned. I knew I looked tired, and while I had stayed home yesterday to catch up on sleep, it screwed up my sleep schedule big time. Last night I'd ended up staying up past two in the morning.

"Oh, I'm always tired." I answered. "The life of an insomniac."

"Poor you," Midna said with fake concern. "Getting to stay home whenever you have a stuffy nose or a tummy ache."

I rolled my eyes and stopped at my locker. "Poor me indeed."

* * *

Mr. Gorman had gone off into another one of his oh-so-scintillating speeches in History again. I swear to Nayru I could feel my brain cells committing suicide so that they wouldn't have to hear yet another one of his pointless, off-topic speeches about drug abuse or teen pregnancy or whatever was bothering him today.

My head felt heavier than you would believe, and my eyelids were drooping to the point that I'd swear someone had attached two little weights to them. I rested my head on my desk, and decided maybe I wouldn't be caught if I took just one quick nap…

Something bounced off the back of my head, jarring me awake.

I blinked, finding one half of an eraser sitting on my desk. I picked up the torn-in-half eraser gingerly and turned around, searching for the culprit. I found him—his arm poised in mid-air, ready to throw the second-half of the eraser—and froze.

Oh crap.

Of course, of all the people in class who could've thrown the damn eraser, it simply _had_ to be Link McCormick.

Even among the toughest and stupidest kids in school, no one, I repeat, _no one _messed with Link McCormick. Even though he'd only moved here six short months ago, he was the kind of guy who most guys avoided and most girls trailed after.

Everything about him screamed _bad boy_, from the soles of his battered combat boots, to the muscle-hugging v-neck t-shirt which gave a tantalizing view of his collarbone, to finally his entrancing blue eyes. Oh sure, he was the embodiment of sexy if you're into the whole, ruffled, rough, _I-just-rolled-out-of-some-girl's-bed_ look. I wasn't… or at least my mind was trying to convince me I wasn't, but my body, on the other hand, had other plans.

So sue me, I have eyeballs. Everyone does. Except jellyfish and deep-sea creatures.

In truth, his appearance wasn't what scared me so much as his reputation. He was a charmer, and he did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. According to everything I'd heard, the guy's scored with more than half of the hottest girls in eleventh grade—and that's only in _this _school. His hoards of fangirls were many, and if you as much as sneeze near him, they will be on your case in a flash. He's the star of the fencing, archery and soccer teams, not to mention one of the smartest kids in class, despite not once doing his homework.

When someone had asked him why he moved, he admitted that he'd been expelled from his old school for fighting, and that was enough for fear to set in. Though he didn't exactly go around beating the crap out of people for no good reason, people were scared of him because they knew he could. They also knew he would win, hands down. And although I knew _I_ could take him no problem in a fist fight, he had the ability to screw with a girl's emotions, and sometimes that could be worse than any physical pain.

Basically, you do _not _mess with Link McCormick if you don't want your high school experience to be a wide-awake nightmare.

I whipped back around, and yanked my blonde hair out from behind my ears to create a golden curtain between me and the rest of the world.

I felt a sigh escape me when the blessed sound of the bell wrung overhead. I was free of Mr. Gorman's nonsensical class discussions and Link's annoyingly gorgeous gaze.

I stood up, gathered my books and raced out the door; not even pausing to wait for Malon, who was leaving the classroom across from mine.

I breathed a sigh of relief and let my tense muscles uncoil as I found my locker.

I had already thrown all my History books into my locker, when I realized I was clutching something tightly in my right hand.

Curiously, I peeled back my fingers to reveal the ripped eraser Link had thrown at me for no good reason. With a huff of exasperation, I tossed the stupid thing into my locker, gathered my English books, and closed my locker with a satisfying _thunk_.

I proceeded down the hall, glancing up at the hallway clock to find that if I were to enter class now, I'd probably be first. And then I'd have to sit in an uncomfortable silence with the teacher, which was something nobody wants to endure. Maybe I'll go to the bathroom and check my appearance to kill some time, or maybe I could—

My thoughts were cut short as I collided with someone, and as luck would have it, I dropped all my books on the ground.

"Sorry." I muttered as I bent down to retrieve the fallen books.

I had expected the guy I ran into to simply accept my apology, and bypass me; you know, like everyone else would. Instead, he bent down across from me and attempted to help me gather my books.

I allowed my gaze to flick up to his face, and immediately, my face turned the shade of a fire truck.

No freaking way.

But what I was seeing was true; I'd collided with none other than Link McCormick.

What is this? Are the Goddesses taunting me? If so, it's totally not funny.

"Sorry." I repeated in a mumble, as I rolled back from my toes to flat onto my feet. "Don't unleash your army of fangirls on me, okay?" I hadn't really meant for that last part to slip out, but hell, it didn't come out sounding half-bad.

"I don't know;" He murmured. "Fifty-to-one seems like pretty good odds to me."

I looked up, carefully avoiding his hypnotic gaze and spotted some amusement on his face.

Miffed, I tried not to stare at his deliciously exposed collarbone. "Cocky, aren't we?"

"We might be." He shrugged, running a hand through his perfectly messy hair. "But bit-sized Harkinian doesn't appear to pose much of a threat."

I narrowed my eyes at his boots. I didn't like being made fun of; not even by an uber-sexy bad boy who had a bigger following than most celebrities. "Yeah, well, bit-sized Harkinian just so happens to have a best friend who's not afraid to use her twili magic on your ass."

This, of course, wasn't even remotely true. Midna wasn't_ really_ a witch and she didn't have a clue on how to cast any twili magic, but she loved reading about it and everyone jumped to the conclusion anyway. She always went along with it and encouraged her friends to do the same, simply for the prospect of freaking people out.

"So, you really don't want to mess with me, McCormick." I finished evenly.

"Oh, I have every intention of messing with you, Harkinian." He said, sending a slight, suggestive smile my way.

I blinked in surprise and frowned.

Was he—was he really just _flirting_ with me?

Hang on a second; that makes _no_ sense. Like, at all. Why the hell would the resident man-whore/sexy-as-sin bad boy go for the completely unremarkable girl he'd hardly spoken to? What, is he simply that desperate for fresh meat that he's lowered his standards?

Not to say that I was hideous or anything, I was just nothing special. Standing a measly five-foot-nothing, with little to no curves to speak of, a bust that rivals that of an eighth-grader, and skin so pale I could pass for a vampire; at best, I could be described as 'cute'. There are plenty of girls around school who beat me out in the pretty department, not to mention probably make a much easier lay.

Then again, I cut my gaze the playboy standing before me; guys like _him _enjoy a challenge.

_Whatever,_ I decided. _Whether or not he was flirting with me, I won't stick around long enough to find out. _

I carefully skirted around him and made my way to English without as much as a glance back.

* * *

"Spill." Ruto Floria said as she slammed her tray onto the cafeteria lunch table I was sitting at.

I looked up from my chicken soup and raised an eyebrow at her. "Actually, I planned on eating it."

She rolled her vivid, mauve eyes. "Not the soup, silly. I meant about what happened in the halls between first and second period."

Beside me, Midna and Malon pressed closer, intrigued.

I sighed and absentmindedly poked the side of my Styrofoam soup bowl with the edge of my spoon. I knew precisely what she was talking about, but decided instead to play dumb.

"Be more specific," I said. "It's been a happening day."

Ruto opened her mouth just as Ilia Brenner approached our table from behind, clutching her lunch tray.

"Howdy girls," She said, sitting across from Midna. Her green gaze met mine. "So I heard some interesting gossip about you from Ru-boo's big sis, Lulu."

"Yes!" Ruto sang triumphantly, sliding next to her. "She told me about it, too!"

I nibbled at my spoon nervously, eyes downcast on the fake-wooden table that had _'Peater wuz here'_ carved into its surface.

"I heard that you," Ilia pointed at me with her fork. "Had a little run in with a certain smexy playboy."

I blushed, not answering.

"Tell them who, Ill!" Ruto screeched, happy to have her gossip tanks on full.

Ilia rolled her eyes and rested her chin on her hand, while Midna and Malon were still engrossed in her gossip. "I'll give you one hint," She said. "His name rhymes with kink."

Great Farore, I am so mortified right now.

Ruto squealed and rested her face in her hands dreamily. "Gods, I am so jealous of you, Zellie."

"Nothing happened." I protested, quickly. "We just ran into each other in the halls."

"From what Lulu described, he hit on you." Ilia said pointedly.

I felt my face sour up. Lulu is so dead when I get my hands on her. "She was exaggerating." I insisted. "I _won't_ have my pants charmed off by an irritatingly good-looking player. I have standards that can't be filled simply with hotness, you know."

Ilia snorted as if there was no such thing.

I narrowed my eyes. Ilia was my friend, but her views on love were… controversial, to say the least. And I happened to be a romantic at heart; not that I showcased it like Ruto did.

"Besides," I picked up a saltine cracker from my tray and took a nibble. "Guys like that only aim for the best. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm roughly as curvy as a two-by-four."

"Hey now," Midna reached over to pat my arm reassuringly. "Be nice. Even two-by-fours have more shape than you."

I scowled at her and aimed a cracker at her tri-coloured head as she indulged in a laugh at my expense.

* * *

When I walked into the threshold at home, I could already tell something was up. Wondering how I knew? Well, it was simple.

Impa had baked.

Let me clarify: Impa _hates _baking. She says it's too time consuming and that it should be left to the pros, despite the fact that she's halfway decent at it.

But she'd baked today.

Not only that but, she'd made my favourite brownie cupcakes with melted caramel and crushed pecans on top.

Crap. What did she do? Or what was she planning on doing? Was it another awkward talk about boys and sex? If so, you'd think she'd realize I understood her after the first eight times she gave me the speech…

"Zelda!" My stone-faced guardian said in her fake _I'm-happy!_ voice, as I passed through the kitchen with my backpack.

She pushed the tray of freshly baked cupcakes at me. "Go ahead, take one."

Raising a brow quizzically, I gingerly took one and unwrapped the flowery paper around the base. She watched me take a tiny bite and chew once, twice, then swallow.

"Okay," I said, dropping my backpack onto the staircase that leads upstairs. "Who died?"

Peanut scampered down the stairs I had previously abandoned my bag on, and proceeded to attack my feet— I was relieved to know it wasn't her who'd met their untimely demise.

Impa, who looked hilariously out of place in a frilly apron, smoothed a few runaway wisps of her platinum hair into her ponytail. "No one died per se…" She murmured.

I took another cautious bite of my cupcake and waited.

"… but I figured yesterday would've been enough time for you to have recovered your pride."

I chewed.

"So I feel that now is the best time to ask you about your… experiences with our thief."

Oh.

Immediately, I felt my face dissolve into an expression of distaste. Suddenly, brownies smothered in caramel and pecans didn't taste so good anymore.

Okay, yes they did; but my mood couldn't be rescued because of it.

"What do you want me to say, Impa?" I asked, exasperated. "I already told you everything I know!"

Impa hesitated. "Well, from what a few of the witnesses said, the boy had been rather… appealing to the eye, so a few of the people at HTPA thought—."

"Thought I purposely withheld information because I had _the hots_ for a Triforce Seeker?" I demanded, betrayal churning my stomach. "Hello! Those people _murdered _my parents, Impa! I feel nothing but _disgust _for each and every one of them!"

"Now Zelda, I didn't say—."

"You don't have to!" I screeched, tossing the half-eaten cupcake at the table. I turned my back on her, ran up the stairs—with Peanut following closely behind—and slammed my bedroom door.

Throwing myself onto the bed, I grabbed hold of the pillow and sobbed.

_Damn HTPA! Damn Triforce Seekers! Damn them all!_

Something small and furry brushed against my arm, and I sat up. Peanut meowed up at me happily from the foot of my bed and I couldn't help but fall under her cuteness spell. I folded her into my arms and buried my face into her soft fur, a small fraction of my anger diminishing.

But only a small fraction.

How dare they! How _dare _they think that I would betray them and help the people who ruined my life!

There was a soft knock on my door, momentarily putting a halt to my turbulent thoughts.

"Go away." I growled, clutching poor Peanut even tighter to my chest.

Impa came in and sat at the foot of my bed anyway.

We sat in complete silence aside from Peanut's content purring.

"I was appalled when they said it as well," Impa finally said, breaking the silence. "Enraged, even. I know you far better than to succumb to your hormones. I couldn't believe HTPA would suggest something like that." She sighed, and scratched Peanut under her fuzzy chin. "They told me I had to make sure regardless, even though I hated the idea as much as you."

_Doubtful._ I thought venomously.

"Look Zelda," Impa said, demanding my attention with her tone. "I know it seems completely insulting and idiotic, but they're desperate to find this guy. He could pose a big threat if we don't get him soon."

Sullenly, I nodded. "I get it." I admitted regretfully.

She nodded firmly and stood. "I'll let them know you've offered everything you knew."

I released Peanut and rolled onto my stomach as Impa left, a very troubling idea forming in my head:

HTPA doesn't trust me.

* * *

**So, what do you think? I definitely feel my writing has improved from my other stories. And if you've read them, you'd know that now is the part where I beg for reviews because I am a sad little soul…**


	2. Car Troubles

**Sup peeps? It's me again (You're surprised, I'm sure.) and I gotta say I'm really digging writing this story! Seriously, the inspiration is flowing like a river of words… or something along those lines. **

**Warning: Still rated T for language and suggestive humour.**

* * *

**THIEF**

**Chapter two— Car Troubles**

* * *

When I woke up this morning, I felt like hell hung over. My head ached, and after a quick glance in the mirror, I can safely deduce I had big, puffy bags under my eyes.

I'd barely slept last night; that damn HTPA fiasco kept me up well past one-thirty. And I was still seething like mad about it.

_Dramatic sigh. _At least it's Friday.

Stepping into the dimly lit bathroom, I started combing through my nightmarish hair until it fell onto my shoulders in long, golden tresses. While I had managed to save my hair, it seemed it wasn't helping the rest of me. Thanks to my winter-white complexion, things such as big freaking purple bags under my eyes—along with zits, blush and bruises—showed up especially vividly. I scanned the bathroom counter for my measly collection of makeup, which included; cover-up, blush that's far too dark for my skin tone, and brown mascara.

I reached for the cover-up, a feeling of disgust welling up inside me when I mistakenly read the side of the bottle. "Classic Ivory" it read in black, fancy print. _Psh_. That's just their nice way of saying "Freakishly Pasty" in my opinion, but whatever.

I smeared a plentiful layer of ivory under my eyes, and hopefully covered up some of the ugly, purple reminder of my near sleepless night. I then swiped the brown mascara over my lashes and grimaced at the useless blush. Why had I picked scarlet-coloured blush when I had the complexion of Wite-out? Hell if I know. Ask me that when I bought it over a year ago.

As I screwed the lid of my mascara back on, I spotted my Triforce mark on the back of my right hand. I took the marked hand in my other and rubbed at the symbol. It was faded and dull against my skin; barely even noticeable unless you were looking for it.

With a sigh, I left the bathroom and headed to the kitchen.

I heard the telltale _ding!_ from our toaster oven as I approached the kitchen, rejoicing in the fact that the toaster would be free for my use.

I turned the corner into the kitchen, finding that Nabooru and Impa had been sitting next to each other, muttering incoherent things to one another. I caught Impa hand Nabooru my truck's keys.

Upon noticing me, they went onto their normal morning routines; muttering quick 'good morning's in my direction.

I decided to play along and made my way to the toaster, sliding in two slices of white bread.

The three of us sat in cold silence before Nabooru broke it.

"I'll drive ya and your friends to school today, how does that sound?"

_Subtle. _I thought.

Seriously, I was surprised they hadn't wrapped that sentence up with "hint, hint, nudge" accompanied by some much-needed air-quotes. Or better yet; a big banner that read: YOU ARE IN NO EMOTIONAL AND/OR PHYSICAL STATE TO DRIVE PEOPLE ANYWHERE WITHOUT ENDANGERING THEIR LIVES.

Maybe a bit wordy, but it would've sent the same message.

Instead of sharing my opinion, I decide to simply dwell on how stupid the whole situation was. That HTPA would actually think I'd be so attracted to a Triforce Seeker—a freaking _Triforce Seeker_—that I'd honestly withhold a description about him. Ridiculous. I mean, that was like saying the Goddess Hylia had a crush on the Demon Demise. It makes _no _sense! Zero! Zilt! None!

Realizing I'd just been standing there, grimacing at nothing, I quickly nodded in response to the question.

It wasn't as if I even had any say in whether Nab would drive me; I knew better than anybody else that when the two of them got an idea in their heads, the best thing you can do is shut up and accept it. If being grossly over-protective was what they wanted to do, then I was smart enough to know there would be no changing their minds.

The toaster dinged.

I was only just beginning to spread Nutella on my toast before someone cleared their throat self-importantly.

I finish spreading and take a bite before turning my attention to said throat-clearer.

"Yes?" I asked.

Impa smoothed down her white robe, and met my gaze dead on.

"We received some new information this morning… about the thief."

I stiffened. "Did you?"

"It turns out the two attempts at stealing the Shield weren't his first visits to the Ordon Museum, or so it seems. Witnesses said they saw a strange young man lingering around the outside of the building wearing a face-concealing sweater about… four to six months ago. They said he's returned at least four-to-five times since. There's a pretty good chance he's the same guy." She looks at me very seriously. "If so, then there's also good chance he's living somewhere close by… maybe even attending your school—."

"And they want me to search for him, right?" I asked.

"Not necessarily _search_ for him," Impa pressed her lips together before continuing. "Just keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

Yeah, right. I'm willing to bet if I screw up again they'll accuse me of dating a demon, or something along those lines.

I took a heaping bite of toast. "Eah, whaeva." I mumbled around the food in my mouth.

* * *

The day flew by in an uneventful blur; certainly no green-clad thieves for me to chase. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary happened today, unless you considered Mr. Tingle wearing stripes with polka-dots unusual. And it definitely was, but not for him.

I was just packing my bag out of my locker when my phone buzzed, sliding across the metal shelf of my locker. Startled by the vibrations, I picked it up. It was a text from Nab.

**_Sorry! Truck's not working! Do you think you can catch the bus?_**

I stared blankly at the screen for a moment before the news sunk in.

**_What?_** I typed furiously. **_What's wrong with my truck?_**

After a moment, my phone vibrated.

**_Idk. Can you take the bus?_**

Well, considering the bell had rung ten minutes ago and my bus was the one that left first, I can't imagine catching the bus was an option at this point.

**_It's gone. I'll have to walk._**

Another moment passed and a next text popped up.

**_Damn. Sorry Zel. U want me to come and meet you?_**

I was tempted to say yes to her, after all; misery loves company, or so I've heard.

**_Nah. _**I wrote instead. **_I'll b fine. _**

* * *

When I got outside, it was spitting.

_Well, fan-freaking-tastic._ I thought grudgingly as I tried to tug my hood over my head. Belatedly, I remembered that this jacket had no hood.

_Even better. _I thought, squaring my shoulders against the rain that started picking up.

I was only about halfway through my thirty-minute walk when the rain started coming down hard. One would describe it as 'pouring'. It didn't help that every car that passed cruelly splashed me with the rain puddles that were littered around the street, either.

_Fifteen more minutes. Fifteen more minutes. _I thought in a constant mantra, trudging down the street.

"Hey!" A voice called over the dripping sound of the rain. "Harkinian? Is that you?"

I turned to see a dark-green pickup truck, shiny with rain.

My eyes flicked to the open window, eyebrows shooting under my bangs in surprise when I realized who the driver was.

Link freaking McCormick.

Seriously? Was he following me or something?

"Yeah, it's me." I said lamely, having recovered from my shock.

He nodded, his cobalt gaze observing me from a distance. "What are you doing walking in this weather?"

"My sister couldn't pick me up and I missed the bus." I answered stiffly. "Now, if you'll excuse me," I faced the slippery sidewalk again, and continued on my crusade home.

The dark-green truck rolled up next to me as I walked.

"I could give you a ride, you know." Link offered. "I promise to behave myself."

I rolled my eyes. "Would you give it a rest?" I asked, swivelling around to meet his gaze. "I'm not like the other girls at school who'll just throw themselves at your feet, you know."

"I'm well aware, actually." His neutral expression morphed into one that looked vaguely amused. "No one else is this much of a princess."

I bristled. "The hell does that mean?" I snapped. Compared to some girls at school, I was anything _but_ a princess. _Unless…?_

I shook my head. _No. There's no way he could know I'm the Princess of Destiny._

"It means you're stubborn as all hell and downright refuse to accept help." He points a finger at me. "That's my definition of a princess."

"Well, clearly you need to locate a better dictionary." I retorted lamely.

His chuckle was muted by the heavy rain. "Look, princess." He said, leaning out the window casually. "I don't want to leave a lady in this sort of weather." He paused to wink at me. "It'd be bad for my reputation."

_Of course! _I thought, mentally rolling my eyes at him. _Din forbid you can't convince anyone _else _into your bed, you perv._

"Well, I'm sorry to damage your rep, then." I said instead, marching on.

Still he followed me, staring at me with that smirk that was totally un-sexy.

"Come on, princess!" He called over the rain. "I'm not asking for anything in return. It's not like you're making a deal with Demise here!"

I ignored him.

"Fine." I heard him sigh in defeat. I figured that meant he was giving up.

I waited for the sound of his car speeding away for the indication that I was safe to trudge again. But the sound never came.

"I'm not leaving, by the way." Came his voice, to my extreme dismay. "I'll just follow you all the way home to make sure nothing happens."

Just then, a horn honked loudly and persistently from behind his car. After a moment of wailing their horn, the driver realized it was pointless, and skirted around Link's dark-green truck.

"Stop following me, you freaking weirdo!" I whirled around, yelling at him. "You're holding up traffic!"

A large grin spread across his godly features—_Godly? Did I really just think that?_

"Then let me give you a ride."

Another car started honking at him angrily, but Link was completely unfazed by it as he watched me.

"Fine!" I said, throwing up my arms and approaching his truck. "But don't come crying to me when I ruin your seats."

I slid into the passenger seat, because there was no back seats—if there had been, you bet your best bananas I'd have gladly sat there instead.

I knew this was utterly stupid; getting into the truck of the sexiest playboy to ever walk this earth, but walking in that rain really had been miserable—though I'd never admit it to Link.

"Where do you live?" He asked, casually reaching over to turn on the heat for me—a surprisingly kind gesture.

"Twelve-hundred, Middletown drive." I answered, pulling down the sun visor in order to use the little mirror I suspected was on the back.

I almost jumped at my reflection. I'd say I looked like a drowned rat, but that little bit of mascara I'd put on this morning had come back to bite me. It pooled under my eyes and streaked down my cheeks, looking as if I had been crying muddy water. As far as I knew, rats didn't cry mud. My hair didn't look much better, as it was drenched and straggly-looking, framing my water-logged face horridly._ Yucko_.

And here I was, sitting in the car of the single-most desired guy in school. This whole situation suddenly became a whole lot dumber.

I pushed the thought back and rifled around in my backpack for the mini-pack of Kleenex I always carried.

I found them and started dabbing under my eyes.

"I'm getting your seat all wet." I observed nonchalantly. "Told you."

Link shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

I shook my head at his dumb joke, but couldn't help but let out a tiny smile. "Douche."

He didn't say anything in return, but I could see the edges of his mouth were tugged up.

We lapsed into silence, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable.

In our silence, out of the corner of my eye, I observed his profile.

He really was devilishly handsome; even I, who was probably the lone member of his anti-fan club, have to admit that. His golden skin, and his chiselled, angular face were coupled with blue eyes Ruto would consider "dreamy", and long lashes that silhouetted in the background of the truck window. His hair was longish, and tawny-brown; tousled in that perfectly sexy way that has probably made multiple females faint on a daily basis. And, really, the less I look at his muscles, the better. Honestly, it was no surprise that he was so successful when it came to charming girls.

_What am I thinking? _I snapped out of my reverie. _Did I seriously admit that I found him attractive?_

I shook my head to jostle those thoughts away _right now!_

"Do you still have my eraser, by the way?" Link asked, his smooth voice penetrating the silence.

I felt some blush creep onto my face. I actually _did _still have it sitting in my locker.

"No," I lied. "Why?"

He shrugged. "It sure would've been useful in the math test I had the period after."

"Well, then, you shouldn't have thrown it at me in the first place." I snapped.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him raise and drop his shoulders in a shrug.

"Why exactly _did_ you throw it, anyway?" I asked.

He chuckled softly. "You were falling asleep during Mr. Gorman's speech. No matter how good a student you are, _no one _sleeps during Mr. Gorman's speeches and gets away with it."

More blush coloured my face as we approached my house.

_Crap. He noticed?_

The truck's dashboard was suddenly very fascinating, as I couldn't tear my eyes away from it no matter how hard I tried.

We bounced out of a particularly big pot hole, and the movement snapped me out of my daze.

"Just drop me off at the end of my driveway." I said urgently, picturing what Nab would say about my current situation.

She'd been burned more than once in the world of romance—plenty of guys cheating, one-night stands; the works—so now she was convinced the opposite sex was nothing but trouble. For years she's been trying to convince me that dying alone can't be _that _bad.

Link ignored my request, and pulled into the driveway anyway.

The garage door was open, my truck and Nabooru tucked away from the rain in the little room.

_Oh no._ I thought apprehensively. _Nab sees me with someone of the male gender. Get ready for an awkward sex talk in five… _

I get out of Link's car.

_Four…_

I grabbed my backpack off of the floor of his truck.

_Three…_

I shut the door.

_Two…_

I walked over to the garage, as he pulls back out onto the road behind me.

_One. _

"How long?" Nabooru asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

I passed her and headed for the door that connected with the kitchen.

"How. Long?" She repeated, following me.

I sighed and plopped my soggy backpack onto the kitchen table. "How long what?"

"How long have you been dating that guy? And what the hell makes you think that he's acceptable without me meeting him first?"

_How do I put this gently? Hmmm… it seems I can't. _

"I'm not dating him." I said simply, hopefully nipping this little misunderstanding in the bud.

Her lips tightened, unconvinced. Then she glanced around, as if checking for a spy, and leaned closer to me.

"Did you guys break up?" She gestured to the mascara-soaked tissue I still clutched in my hand and lowered her voice further. "Is it because you wouldn't sleep with him?"

I blinked at her.

My mind reeled. I shook my head in a feeble attempt to clear it. _I'd heard her right, hadn't I?_

"Nab! No!" I screeched, mortified.

"You _did_ sleep with him?" She screeched back, hands clamped over her mouth.

Her golden eyes looked positively _horrified_, her thick lips quivering under her fingers.

I took a deep, _deep _breath and counted backward in my head. Slowly but surely, I was able to get a firm hold on my outrage.

"Nabooru," I said her name as politely as possible. "I am not dating that guy, nor have I _ever_ dated him. I most certainly have _not_ slept with him, and I do not ever plan to." My voice was surprisingly calm and level, considering all the rage that boiled in my veins right now. "He saw me walking home in the rain, recognized me from class, and offered to give me a ride."

"You're not dating?" Nabooru asked slowly, the news of my dead love-life finally sinking in.

I shook my head. "Nope." I said, lips popping to emphasize the 'p'.

For a moment, she just stared at me.

"Well, why the hell not?"

I looked up at her in shock.

Nabooru leans against the counter and puts a hand to her forehead, pretending to wipe off sweat. "I mean, are you normal?" She started fanning herself. "Even despite all of my experiences with men; if I were a few years younger, I know _I'd _be all over that mighty _fine_ piece of_—_"

I held up a hand, shutting her up. "You and every other girl in Ordon." I said dryly.

She straightened up, nodding with understanding. "Oh, gotcha. Good girl. I'm glad you stayed away."

I rolled my eyes. "And _I'm _glad you're not a few years younger."

With that, I plucked my backpack off of the kitchen table and bounded up the stairs to my room.

She didn't follow me, so that meant this conversation regarding my lack-luster love-life was over.

* * *

Saturday morning, I stood in Gondo's Repair Shop, the only repair place in all of Ordon.

I tapped my fingers on the counter idly as I waited or someone to appear. Impa was in the parking lot, talking with the tow-truck guy who'd towed in my dead truck to the shop.

_Crappy service. _I thought impatiently.

"Hey," An extremely tall, older man said as he jogged out from the repair garage. "Sorry we didn't notice ya sooner. Must not've heard the bell." He gestured to the little silver service bell sitting on the counter.

I blushed. I hadn't even noticed the bell sitting there, let alone had the good sense to ring it.

Oh well, I'll let them think that they just hadn't heard it so I look less stupid.

"How many we serve—?" The man began, only to be cut off by a yell from the garage. He cursed. "Sorry, ma'am. I'll have to let you wait a bit longer. There's been an emergency."

Without stopping to see how I felt about that, he left his place behind the desk and practically sprinted back into the garage.

I sighed, and turned my back to the counter, leaning up against it on my elbows.

"Sorry about the wait, miss." A voice said from behind me.

I turned back around, expecting to see the man again.

But rather, I found myself face-to-face with Mr. Link McCormick for the third time this week.

Seeing that it was me, he grinned.

"Well, if it isn't Hyrule's finest, bit-sized Princess Harkinian?" He teased.

I simply stared, bewildered. Not only because this was our third accidental encounter in one week, but also because he managed to make those hideous blue outfits automotive repairmen wear look pretty damn good. Probably because he'd replaced the button-up shirt with a black tank top that provided a lovely view of his arms...

Oh, who was I kidding? The guy could make a duck suit look seductive.

"You know," He leaned forward on the counter, popping a piece of peppermint gum in his mouth. "I can't help but feel like you're following me, Princess."

I scowled at his new nickname for me. I _really _hoped it didn't stick. "I believe that's _my_ line, Mr. McCormick." I retorted, not sounding nearly as impassive as him. In fact, I'm pretty sure I sounded like a teacher.

He grinned while chewing.

The action really should be repulsive, but for whatever reason, it was kind of hot. Sexy bastard.

I cleared my throat and made eye-contact with a nearby trashcan. Anything not to look at him.

"Look, I came here to repair my truck, not to be made fun of." I said, trying to sound collected, but it came out breathless.

He chuckled. "My apologies, your Majesty."

I ground my teeth. If he doesn't stop with that stupid pet name, I swear I'll bludgeon his perfect face in with that service bell I hadn't thought to ring.

He cleared his throat, suddenly all business-like. "Now, show me your truck and I'll see what I can do."

I blinked, startled by his abrupt change in demeanor. "Uh, my truck's in the parking lot." I awkwardly pointed out the shop's front window. "The yellow one attached to the tow truck."

Link leaned past the counter to glance out of the window, and I stepped away from him, face heating from his closeness.

Noticing that I'd jumped away from him as if he had spontaneously combusted, he raised one golden eyebrow. "You're aware I won't bite, right?"

Now my face was definitely redder than Ronald MacDonald's nose. "I'm aware." I said, attempting sarcasm. And failing oh-so-hard at it.

A little half-smile appeared on his soft-looking lips—_not _that I'll _ever_ find out the exact texture, and _not _that I even _care!_

"Well," He straightened himself to his full height—probably a full foot-and-a-half taller than me—the smile still firmly in place. "I apologize, Princess. It wasn't my intention to irritate you."

I threw up my arms. "Stop calling me that!"

"Calling you what?" He asked, feigning innocence.

I pointed at him. "You know what!" I accused.

The smile widened. Damn him, it was one of those heart-melting smiles too.

With a short laugh, the smile faded and his business attitude returned. He strode out from his place behind the counter, and paused at the door to glance back at me.

"You coming?"

I blinked once, realizing he'd wanted me to follow. "Uh, yeah."

We made our way to my truck, still attached to the back of the tow truck. Impa was nowhere to be found, but the tow truck driver was leaning against the repair shop, sipping out of a travel mug.

Link looked back at me and gestured to the hood. "May I?"

I nodded and he threw open the hood of my truck.

After a bit of tweaking at the engine and muttering to himself while scribbling things on a clipboard, his blue gaze met with mine.

"From what I can tell, the alternator needs—."

I held up my hand, silencing him. "Don't bother, I don't speak car. Just tell me how much it'll cost to fix."

He stared at me a moment, then grinned.

I most certainly did _not _melt a little inside because of that smile.

He leaned up against my truck and fixed me with a flirtatious wink. "Sure thing, Princess."

I looked away to hide my blush. "Well?"

"It'll cost roughly two-hundred rupees."

"Two-hundred?" I sputtered, blinking repeatedly. I'd only paid five-hundred for the actual truck itself! "You've got to be kidding!"

"Well, a few of your parts need replacing, plus Gondo has to pay every worker for their time." He shrugged. "It adds up."

"I can't afford that!" I exclaimed.

"What can you afford?"

I nibbled on my lip. "Um," I began hesitantly. "About a hundred?"

His blue eyes became thoughtful. "So, you can afford seventy-five rupees then?"

"Seventy-five is lower than a hundred, last time I checked." I said dryly.

Humor danced in his eyes and he wiggled his brow at me. "Hey, don't be sassy. I'm trying to help you, here."

I smiled wryly. "Sorry. How do you plan to help me, exactly?"

"Well," He smirked. "I'm thinking you bring this beast back home," He patted my truck. "I'll buy the parts needed, and come by and fix it for you."

"How does that help?"

Link leaned down at me, the smell of peppermint warm on my face from his breath. "It'll take longer, but I'll do it for seventy-five."

"How?" I asked, suspicious and admittedly a little dazed.

"Simple." He leaned away from me and closed the hood of my truck.

I mentally thanked him for leaving my personal bubble, and wait for him to continue.

"I'll only charge you for the broken parts. Also, it'd be only my labour expenses to pay for, and I've decided to be a good guy and do it for free."

I stared at him dubiously. "Really? For free?"

He shrugged his lean shoulders and flashed a grin my way. "Sure. Why not?"

"Well," I let my gaze wander to his tan, _I'm-a-carpenter_ boots. "Don't you need the money? I mean, most people with jobs do."

Another shrug. "I'm feeling generous."

"And will your boss be okay with you pretty much stealing his business?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

"He will if I say I'm doing it so you'll go out with me."

I cocked a sceptical brow at him. "Are you?"

He took my hand and leaned close to me, blue eyes sparkling with a teasing light. "If you'd like me to."

I tried to act pissed that he's completely abusing my hormones, not to mention totally invading my personal space. I _wanted _to ignore the tingling sensation that radiated from his warm touch, but really, my whole body was buzzing as if I had just been sitting in a message chair for six straight hours. That sort of thing was little difficult to ignore.

"I-I don't." I stammered, pulling my hand back, face aflame. Thankfully, the tingles stopped when I broke contact.

Link chuckled and stepped away. "Ah, an all business relationship, I see?"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah. So you for sure can do it?"

He nodded and handed me the clipboard, which was covered in his messy scrawl. "Now, if you would give your number, I'll come by tomorrow."

I frowned. "Why? Shouldn't you want my address or something?"

"Well, I need proof that I'm only doing this to get you to go out with me. And I've already been to your house. Is two okay?"

I shook my head and scrawled my name and phone number. "You're a weird guy, you know that?" I commented, handing back the clipboard. "And yes, two is fine."

Link grinned sexily. "Thanks, Princess." After reclaiming the clipboard, he turned and went back into the repair shop, leaving me breathless and bothered.

* * *

Later that day, I sat on my bed working on homework. I was determined to actually do my homework on a Saturday, instead of putting it off until eight-o'clock on Sunday, like I usually did. Unfortunately, my mind was looking for any kind of excuse to distract from my math homework, and I was currently finding my bedspread pattern strangely fascinating. I had to smack myself in order to break my daze.

Honestly though, the amount of homework Mr. Tingle piled on was borderline abusive.

My door suddenly burst open, and Nabooru charged in wearing her sleek black stealth uniform.

"You know, to most people, it's considered a common courtesy to actually, you know, _knock _before entering someone's private chambers." I said, closing my textbook.

She rolled her golden eyes. "Shut up. We have a mission tonight."

I raised a brow. "Another?" We rarely got more than two jobs a week; two within three days was nearly unheard of.

She nodded. "Yup. So grab your gear and get moving. We need to be at Kakariko museum in two hours, and it's an hour-thirty drive."

I sighed and slid off my bed. "Fine. Let's go."

* * *

I never liked patrolling outside at jobs. Mostly because we had to split up, and crouch in some bushes for hours on end without any sort of entertainment at all. It was long and boring and tedious. Okay, not _tedious_, but it sure felt like it.

Patrolling was my punishment for screwing up with the Shield.

I sat crouched in the shrubs that surrounded Kakariko Museum, trying to stay alert, though truthfully, my attention was dwindling at an alarming rate. That, and my knees were starting to shake from me crouching on them for so long. Impa always expected me to stay constantly crouching, so if the enemy _does_ decide to show up, I'll be ready to spring into action in a moment's notice. To this, I'd calmly reply that nobody's knees could possibly handle that kind of abuse—not even a fresh, young teenage girl, such as myself.

I sighed and plopped down on my butt in the dirt.

If this thief was going to show, he better get moving. Like, _now_.

No sooner the thought formed in my head, I heard a faint rustle from behind me. I rolled back from my butt into a crouch, scanning the environment around me warily.

"Boo." A voice said in my ear.

I thrust my elbow backward blindly, hoping to hit something. I did, a pained wheeze sputtering behind me.

I spun around. "You!" I growled, hands clenching into fists at my sides.

Not-Astley stood there, clutching his probably well-muscled abdomen in pain. "Quite the boney elbow you have there, Sheik." He coughed.

I crossed my arms and glared at him fiercely. "Good. I hope I've damaged your innards, and you'll die a slow, painful death, _Seeker_." I spat the last word like poison.

He whistled and straightened himself, no longer affected by my jab in the ribcage. "That's a pretty hefty accusation there, don't you think?"

"Not when it's true!" I growled, reaching for the walkie-talkie in my pocket, ready to call for backup.

Only, it wasn't there.

I struggled to keep calm, as I patted all the pockets of my suit—all of which were empty.

"This what you're looking for?" Not-Astley asked, holding up the little black rectangle that was my walkie-talkie.

I bit my tongue, refusing to answer.

Looking satisfied, he slipped the talkie into his pocket. "Well, I'll have you know that I am not, in fact, a Seeker. Quite the opposite, actually."

I laughed humourlessly. "Sure. And I'm the three goddesses." I stepped forward threateningly. "What do you want here?" I demanded.

He leaned against a tree that stood next to him. "I need all the Hero's weapons," He said a matter-of-factly, as he kept those blue eyes of his trained on my every movement. "Much more than you do."

"I highly doubt that." I said, edging closer to him.

"I need them for a better reason then the money," He said softly. "I need to have them for when shit hits the fan."

I blinked, momentarily confused before my mask of anger returned. "What in Farore's wind is _that _supposed to mean?"

He scrutinized me for moment, then those lines around his eyes deepened, showing me that he was smiling under his cowl. "What do you think I mean?" He asked cryptically.

I opened my mouth to snap another venomous retort, but I was interrupted by the gritty sound of a walkie-talkie.

Not-Astley pulled out a walkie-talkie from one of his pockets—not the one that he'd swiped off of me.

"Abort! We have the Clawshot! I repeat, abort!" A fuzzy voice said from the talkie.

"Mmm-hmm, gotcha." Not-Astley drawled, still keeping his eyes on me.

_He has accomplices! _I realized with a start.

He slid the walkie-talkie back into his pocket, and gave me a salute. "That's my cue to leave, little Sheiky."

I blinked, this new information slowly registering into my brain. "Hey—!" I yelled, diving for him.

At that moment, that irritating flash of green returned, briefly blinding me.

I grunted as I slid across the dirt on my stomach. I laid there motionlessly for a moment, my second failure sinking in.

With an annoyed growl, I punched the empty ground where Not-Astley had once been standing.

* * *

**I just want to say thank you to everyone who's given this story a chance: YOU ROCK! **

**Here, have a cookie. *Hands cookie***

**Special thanks to BlueFrenchHorn97 for pointing out that typo from the first chapter, for it is now fixed! See, I had originally called HTPA the Hylian Triforce Protection _Unit_, instead of Agency, but I ended up changing ****it. I guess that one slipped by my radar…**


	3. Secrets

**Hey! Wassup? I just want to thank y'all again for the support for this story. Seriously, you have no idea how much it all means to me.**

* * *

**THIEF**

**Chapter three— Secrets**

* * *

The next day I sat in my backyard, sitting in a rickety wooden outdoor lounger, my sunglasses shading my eyes from the sun's radiation. Both Impa and Nabooru were at work today, so I had the house to myself. To be honest, I felt sort of guilty for not working; even though I had already tried to get a job in ninth-grade, and couldn't possibly juggle it along with school, missions and sleep. I was fired for falling asleep on the job, after I'd spent the previous night flushing out a Seeker hideout on a mission.

I was reading a dog-eared copy of a high school romance novel I'd probably read a million times already, soaking up the warm midday sunshine. Thankfully, I remembered to lather on a thick layer of SPF 45 sunscreen, enough to possibly freeze out the sun itself (I'd learned the hard way that pale skin has the tendency not to tan so well). Today it seemed almost impossibly warm for late April, almost summer weather; and with warm, you usually get sunny.

I sighed with envy as I read a rather vivid description of the main character in my book—Hallie—having a very hot, very enjoyable make out session with her love interest. I wanted to make out with a tanned and well-muscled hottie too, dammit!

I laid the novel flat on my chest and reached down at my little compact radio, turning the volume up slightly—hopefully not enough to annoy my next door neighbor, Orielle, who was hunched over, de-weeding her near-perfect gardens.

After a moment of sitting in the sun, bopping my head along with the guitar beat of the song playing, I decided I was bored of reading. I stuck my makeshift paper bookmark into the novel, and dropped it next to my radio. I sighed, and settled into the wooden seat, head bobbing back against the headrest.

At some point, I must've fallen asleep, because I woke with a start when something slapped against my stomach.

Disoriented and more than a little pissed off, I yanked my glasses off of my eyes. This proved to be the stupid thing to do, because my light-sensitive blue eyes were not used to the sunshine and I was temporarily blinded. I slapped a hand over my eyes and groaned, my throat feeling raw and sore.

A low, sexy chuckle sounded next to me. "Princess, you get better every day, you know that?"

I felt all the blood in my body rush to my face. I'd totally forgotten Link was coming by today to fix the truck.

Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the light. I uncovered my eyes to glance at my assaulted stomach, only to find my teen-romance novel resting across my ribs. Flushing madly, I tucked the book under my thigh to hide the incriminating cover: two people making out in bathing suits under the telltale title of _All The Way._

I looked up and glared at the culprit. His amused ocean gaze swept over me, taking in my cheap yellow flip-flops, battered denim cut-offs, and embarrassingly low cut blue tank top that I regretted wearing. Surprisingly though, he wasn't staring at me in that lusty, _I'm-mentally-undressing-you _way. The only emotions I spotted on his face were amusement and mild curiosity.

"You're here." I said, shifting my weight uncomfortably as I propped my glasses atop my hair.

It was a lame thing to say, akin to casually pointing out that cows go moo, but it was all I could think of at this point.

He smiled; one of those near-blinding, thousand kilowatt smiles that I thought only celebrities could pull off. "Nice observation."

I narrowed my eyes and sat up, subtly turning my novel upside-down behind my back. "I'll open the garage for you." I muttered, yanking myself to my feet.

As I stood, I spied Orielle staring at us with round, owl-like eyes from between her budding petunias. Noticing that she'd been caught, she smiled slyly and stepped into her house, but not before flashing me a thumbs-up.

I restrained a groan and rounded the corner to my house's front yard. I stepped in through the front door, and picked up the little garage door opener off of the little shelf that sat along the wall near the coat hangers. I clicked the only button on the device and stick my head out the front door to be sure the garage opened.

"Thanks, Princess." Link called, winking at me before he stepped into the now-open garage.

I rolled my eyes and ducked back into my house. Almost immediately when I was out of sight, I bounded upstairs to the nearest mirror in the bathroom.

I groaned when I saw my reflection.

_Stupid shirt!_ I thought, yanking the collar up to cover some exposed, practically non-existent cleavage. I leaned into my reflection and started combing through my hair—which, by the way, had become an unruly haystack from my nap.

I stopped dead, my fingers still tangled in my hair. _What am I doing? What do I care if I look like I've been in a wind-storm around him?_

I yanked the offending hand back to my side and scowled at my reflection. _You don't care about what Link McCormick thinks about you. _I told myself sternly.

I thumped back down the stairs and tore open the fridge, hunting around for the Kool-Aid I'd made this morning, simply to get my mind off of what I'd been doing. I pulled out the glass pitcher, and shut the fridge door with my foot. After chugging down nearly the entire pitcher of blue liquid, it occurred to me that I should do something to pay Link for his troubles of fixing my truck.

I peeked through the door in the kitchen that led into the garage. He was bent over the open hood of my truck, the sound of clinking metal resonating in the warm air.

I totally didn't check out his butt, by the way.

I hesitated before speaking. Maybe this was stupid.

"Um," I said, and the clinking stopped.

Link leaned past my truck to look at me, absentmindedly wiping his brow. "Hmm?"

I swallowed, suddenly tongue-tied. "Is there anything I can get you? Food? A drink?"

"You don't have to feel obligated to treat me like a guest, Princess." He said simply.

"Too bad," I pulled open the door all the way and stepped into the garage, arms folded over my chest. "Since you're doing this for free, you at the very least deserve a complementary drink or something."

He studied me, then the stubborn set of my jaw, and smiled crookedly. "All right, you've worn me down. What do you have?"

"Coke, milk, bottled water, Kool-Aid, or orange juice." I counted each option off with my fingers. "I don't recommendasking for Kool-Aid, since I practically just chugged it all a few minutes ago."

My face heated. _Oh, why did I say that? _

He grinned regardless of my stupid and/or mindless comment. "Water will do just fine, thank you."

I nodded and slipped back into the kitchen, heart hammering.

_What is wrong with me?_ I wondered, placing a hand over my fluttering heart. Never before had a guy ever affected me like this. My friends always used to praise me for my ability to keep my cool around boys. That's the way things used to be before Link suddenly decided I would be his new mark. I damn the day I fell asleep in class and caught his attention.

Shaking off those thoughts, I pulled open the fridge and got a water bottle.

"Here." I said as I exited the house into the garage, holding out the bottle.

He took it and uncapped it, taking a drink. "Thanks."

I nodded and stepped back into the kitchen, hesitantly lingering around the door. "Um, I'll be inside if you need anything."

He nodded and went back to work.

After leaving him to his work, I spent the day in the living room, browsing on my laptop—a cheap HP I'd had to wait countless hours outside Best Buy to get the deal I could actually afford—but it wasn't particularly entertaining. I didn't help that I couldn't stop my eyes from being magnetically drawn to the garage door.

I groaned and flicked them back to the computer screen, where nothing all that riveting was happening. I was on Facebook, reading about the lives of people who only added me because it made them seem more popular (Key word: _Seem.)_. The only reason I even had the account was because I had to communicate with the members of a group project I did two years ago, and I never bothered getting rid of it in case I ever had another project.

Going onto Facebook was kind of my rock-bottom attempt to entertain myself.

I sighed and clicked the internet closed. I shut the laptop and slid it off of my lap, reaching for the TV remote. I flicked it on and surfed down the channels, scowling when I found out the only things on were kid's shows and re-runs of reality shows—I couldn't _stand _reality shows. With a sigh, I clicked the power button on the remote. Peanut was sound asleep on the kitchen table, so I couldn't kill time fawning over her utter adorableness either.

Bored now, I slumped on the couch. _Maybe I should finish that homework…? _

I really must be bored, since I was actually considering doing homework to pass the time. I need a life.

The loud sound of a car door being slammed closed made me jump.

Intrigued, I jumped up from the couch and raced over to the front window to peer between the blinds. Maybe Nabooru had been let off work early.

It wasn't Nab's racer-red 2002 Nissan in the driveway, but an unfamiliar black car with black-tinted windows. I watched as a young woman—probably somewhere in her early twenties—stomped past the car. I expected her to go to the front door, but instead, she headed straight for the open garage. Not a moment later, I heard yelling coming from the garage.

I blinked and let go of the blinds, watching them snap back into place.

_What is going on? _I wondered, staring at the kitchen door warily as the yelling died down to hushed tones that I could just barely hear.

I shook off my confusion. _Only one way to find out…_

I pulled open the kitchen door, only to find that the girl had Link by the collar of his shirt, despite the fact that he had a good couple of inches on her. The look on her face was that of a scolding mother, as she hissed things at him in a low voice.

The girl stopped clutching his shirt collar and stepped back when she noticed me standing at the door.

She was tall—well, taller than _me_, anyway. Not that it's a big feat— and lightly muscled. She was also pale, with shoulder-length, pitch-black hair flowing from her head like an inky river. She regarded me with intelligent, icy-blue eyes and bit her lip.

"What's going on?" I asked, staring between the two of them.

The girl lifted a hand in greeting. "Hi, I'm Ashei." She said, her voice slightly raspy. "I'm… I suppose you could say I'm Link's big sister."

I returned the greeting with a slight wave. "Hi." I squirmed, unsure of what to say. "Um, I'm Zelda. Is… is there a problem?"

Ashei blinked, and grabbed a hold of the back of Link's shirt as he tried to sneak off. She yanked him back and wrapped a firm arm around his shoulders. "Not with you, I assure you. You see, my _dear_ baby brother here." She squeezed his shoulders. "He didn't tell us that he'd be here, so when something came up,"

Ashei paused, and sent Link a meaningful look. His eyebrows shot up past his hairline, and I'm pretty sure I heard him curse.

"He wasn't there." She finished. "So, we had to go drive aimlessly around looking for him. It was sheer luck we found his truck parked in your driveway."

Ashei released Link's shoulders, and he straightened, running a hand through his hair. After a moment of contemplation, he met my gaze with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Zelda." He said. "Would it be alright if I finished the truck some time during the week?"

I blinked and shook my head. "Of course it's okay."

Ashei smiled warmly. "Thank you for understanding." She turned to leave, but paused to clamp a hand on his shoulder. "If Shad and I don't find you following us home, you'll have to deal with a very angry Telma when you get back." She warned.

With that, she spun on her heel and left.

We were silent as Link knelt on the floor, packing up his tools into his toolbox.

"Is there some kind of emergency?" I finally asked, breaking the silence.

He sighed. "Not really. Just a family commitment that my guardian will be pissed if I miss."

I didn't press about the family commitment. "Guardian?" I repeated.

"Yeah." He clicked the tool box's lock into place. "I'm an orphan." He said it so nonchalantly, like he was used to explaining this.

I kicked the concrete floor of the garage. "Well then, we have something in common."

He looked up at me, surprised. "Oh?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I am too. Didn't you see my guardian yesterday at the shop? She and I don't look even remotely alike."

He shook his head. "I didn't see her. I figured you were there alone."

I remembered how Impa had spontaneously disappeared when I'd shown Link my truck, and then reappeared the moment he left. Maybe a life of hiding from Seekers had made me paranoid, but I wondered if she had done it on purpose, though I have no idea why she would. I made a mental note to ask her about it later.

"Oh." It was the best response I could come up with.

"Indeed." He agreed, sending me a sideways glance. "Hey Harkinian, I've been wondering… are you available—?"

"We have to _go, _Link!" Ashei's no-longer calm voice yelled from the passenger window of the black car.

He sighed, sending me that unfortunately-cute grin again. "I better get going before Ashei neuters me."

I rolled my eyes. "She'd be doing the world a favor."

He reached over and tucked some of my blond hair behind my ear. I don't think I was breathing during the entire process.

"I doubt you think that, Princess." He murmured.

"Don't you think that's a little bold of you," I breathed. "assuming you know what I'm thinking?"

Although he was no longer tucking my hair behind my ear, but he was still in my personal space. My traitor body seems to like it, too. Damn.

"I think I'm a bit smarter than you give me credit for, Princess." His breath was warm and sweet on my face, and I'm pretty sure my eyes fluttered.

But only a little.

When Link stepped back from me, I snapped out of my daze. Before I could think of something witty to say, he turned and loped over to his truck as if nothing happened. Just as he slid into the driver's seat, he paused and saluted me.

I blinked, struck with a sudden burst of familiarity, though I couldn't quite place why.

I shook my head, dismissing the passing emotion—as it faded as quickly and suddenly as it had come— and went back into the kitchen through the garage door.

* * *

I stood in the kitchen, digging through the pantry for that blasted box of spaghetti that I _knew _was in there. On days that Impa worked late—so, basically all the time aside from Thursdays, when she went into work earlier—I made dinner. I had to or else we'd be stuck eating whatever half-cooked, half-poisonous thing Nab would make. She was good at martial arts, but cooking? Not so much.

"Nab!" I yelled to the living room, where Nabooru was sitting, watching some b-list horror movie nobody's ever heard of. "Nab, I cannot for the _life of me _find the spaghetti noodles!"

She paused the TV and glared at me. "You better not be lying, Blondie." She warned, unfurling her crossed legs on the sofa. "'Cause Johnny was about to be sliced up real thin like cheese by some rogue electrical wires."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't give a crap who Johnny is or how he'll meet his makers, I just want to know where the noodles are." I glanced behind me to the stove, where my salted water was over-boiling. I cursed and ripped the top off of the pot, reducing the heat.

Behind me with an over-dramatic sigh, Nabooru pulled open the cupboard and leaned into it, searching.

"Are you stupid or somethin'?" Nabooru asked, tossing me the package of noodles. "It was right up front, next to Impa's nasty-ass tea."

I frowned at the box, then shrugged and ripped it open. "I must be." I replied, cracking the noodles in half before dumping them into the water. "Speaking of which, where is Impa?" I asked. She was supposed to be home a half-an-hour ago; I was getting worried.

Nab shrugged, settling back onto the sofa. "Dunno. She mentioned that she may be a bit later tonight."

"Did she say why?" I asked, curiously peeking between the kitchen blinds.

"Nope." Nabooru said. "She didn't say anything 'bout it to me."

I let the blinds go, barely registering the metallic _clink _that they made as they stiffened to their original shape.

_Odd. _I thought. _Impa always lets us know when and why she's late, so we don't jump to the worst conclusions. Like a Seeker kidnapping. _

And by 'we', I really meant me. I was a worrier, not Nab.

I chewed on my lip. "Well, how long do you think she'll be?"

Nab rolled her golden eyes. "Comm'on Zel," She said. "Impa's a big girl. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"I… guess." I said slowly, stirring the noodles again.

"Come." Nab requested, patting the seat next to her. "Watch _Gory Night _with me."

"Well, I can't say no to that, can I?" I strolled over to the couch and plopped down next to her.

I never really understood the purpose of these ultra-gory horror movies. Sure, I understand that some people like to be scared; but these weren't scary as much as they were gross. I mean, who wants to see some poor sap be squashed by a steam-roller, or decapitated by an elevator door? It's all a bit sadistic if you ask me.

I'd once brought this up to Nabooru, to which she'd replied, maybe, but at least watching it was getting all the psycho-killer vibes out of her system so she wouldn't do it in real life. See?

I suppose I couldn't argue with_ that _sound logic.

Whether she was right or not, I settled into the couch and laughed along with Nab at every absurdly unrealistic death scene.

A few minutes and gory deaths later, the front door swung open and Impa stepped in.

The motion startled me, and I remembered dinner. I stood up lightning-fast, and raced over to the stove. Unfortunately, our dinner had been reduced to a lump of pasta stuck to the bottom of the pot. I sighed and started prying the lump apart with two forks.

"Where have you been, Imps?" I asked, glancing back at her.

I was startled by her appearance—she looked utterly exhausted. Not that she'd never looked tired before, after all, she was working a part-time job, HTPA, and as a motherly figure for me and even Nab; but not once had she ever looked like this. Her face was worn and narrower than usual, her platinum hair dulled to silver in a messy bun atop her head.

She hung up her sweater on the front coat rack and regarded me with haggard crimson eyes. I noticed something in the crook of her arm: one of those full-sized, manila envelopes.

"Are you okay?" I asked, taking a few tentative steps toward her.

She sighed, ruffling my bangs. "I'm fine, dear." She hadn't ruffled my hair since fourth grade.

"Okay," I said, dropping the subject. "But what's that?" I pointed to the envelope.

Impa rubbed her temples. "It's… it's nothing you need to worry about. Some boring paperwork, that's all."

I stared up at her. If I hadn't known her better, I'd have said she looked as if she'd been crying.

But she was Impa, my strict, no-nonsense guardian. I'd always been sure she'd been born without tear ducts.

Was there something she was keeping from us?

* * *

There are several nights where I'd wake up with a dry mouth, but very few times I would actually take action and get myself a drink. No, I was far too lazy for that. Usually.

Tonight however, I had such bad cotton-mouth, it was doubtful I would be able to fall back asleep if I didn't get something to drink.

It took unbelievable amounts of effort to move from my bed, but eventually, I dragged my tired carcass downstairs to the fridge. I flicked on the kitchen light, grimacing when the sudden bright light hurt my eyes. I pulled open the cupboard and grabbed a cup. Not wanting to make my brushed teeth all sugary, I decided on water to drink.

I was leaning up against the counter, draining the last of the water when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. It was the big yellow envelope Impa had been carrying when she got home. And it was sitting right there on the kitchen table, unattended.

I honestly don't know what possessed me to do so, but I tiptoed across the kitchen to the table—warily, as if I thought someone would jump out at me—to the envelope.

I supposed there was no harm, if the thing actually did contain 'boring paperwork' as Impa had told me.

I opened the flap and tugged the few papers out.

My breathing hitched.

In black, bolded letters across the top of the paper, was the name: ASTLEY J. BRIGHTON.

_Could this be… could this be the Thief? _I wondered, my heart racing in anticipation.

I kept on reading, hoping dearly that this meant HTPA had caught him.

**_Name: Astley James Brighton_**

**_Mother: Marina Greene_**

**_Father: Arin Brighton_**

**_Born: Maybelle St. Public Hospital, Kakariko. August 23_****_rd_****_, 1972. _**

**_Died: November 14_****_th_****_, 2001_**

I stopped reading. _He's dead? For twelve years? _I thought. _How… how can that be? _

I shook my head. It must not be the Thief then. I should've known it was too good to be true.

_It must be _some _kind of lead though, _I realized. _Otherwise Impa wouldn't have it. _

I flipped the page to find a picture on the next one. There was a caption on the bottom: **_A. J. Brighton—age 29_**

The picture was of a man, young-looking for twenty-nine. His hair was dark, and his skin lightly tanned. He had a serious face on in the picture—it was probably a passport or driver's licence photo—but I could see laugh-lines very lightly creasing the side of his eyes. There was one thing about him that startled me: his incredibly familiar blue eyes. I couldn't quite place where I'd seen them, in whose face I'd witnessed them personally.

Ugh. My sleep-deprived brain was _so_ not good for thinking at this point.

"Zelda?" A voice said behind me, thick with sleep.

I whirled around, shoving the envelope behind me guiltily.

Impa stood at the top of the stairs, still looking tired, but she definitely looked… better. "What are you doing up?" She asked tiredly.

As quietly as I could manage without looking, I stuffed the papers back into the big envelope. "I was just getting a drink." I said easily. It wasn't technically a lie.

She nodded. "You should get back to bed." She said, rubbing at her temples again. "School's tomorrow."

She started to turn around, but stopped herself. "That reminds me," She murmured, swivelling around to look at me. "I got a message from HTPA shortly after you went to bed. I was going to tell you in the morning, but I figure I might as well now."

I held my breath. A specific message from HTPA would have to be important, otherwise they wouldn't bother.

"Mr. Agahnim would like to personally speak with you tomorrow after school, Zelda."

My stomach jumped into my throat.

Mr. Agahnim was the founder and C.E.O. of HTPA; the head-honcho, so to speak. He ran the company, coordinated missions, and made sure nobody ever found out that the legend of the Triforce was real. He was the boss of my boss' boss, and he wanted to talk to me specifically. Maybe it had something to do with Not-Astley?

My stomach churned anxiously. _Oh Goddesses, I am so screwed._

I swallowed and forced myself to talk. "Did… did he say why?"

Impa shook her head. "No. He only said that he wished to speak with you." Her face became sympathetic. "I'm sure it's nothing bad, probably just a progress check on your powers."

A progress check was something I've always hated. It usually happened once a year; I would go over to HTPA headquarters and let the staff know if I'd developed any new abilities from my Triforce. After years and years of doing so, I've developed an impressive grand-total of _zero_ new powers. I was beginning to suspect that I'd broken my Triforce.

"But I've already had one this year." I said.

Impa shook her head. "Maybe they want more frequent check-ups?"

I didn't really believe it, but I nodded anyway.

"Goodnight, dear." Impa said, heading back upstairs.

I closed my eyes, all of my life predicaments churning in my head. "'Night."

* * *

_I'm late. I am sooo late. _I thought as I tore through my locker for my History books. I'd slept right through my alarm this morning, therefore missing both breakfast and my bus. Why did I have to spend several hours lying wide-awake last night? Trying to figure out any reason to why Impa would have that info about that totally-not-the-thief-guy, Astley Brighton, was a much harder task than I'd anticipated. And it kept me up for hours on end.

_Mr. Gorman's gonna be so pissed. I'm breaking rule number One! _I suddenly realized.

At the beginning of the semester, Mr. Gorman had given us all print-offs of a list of rules to abide by, all numbered off by importance. No phones or technology of the sort in class, No shouting out in class, Raise your hand; et cetera, et cetera. Really, it was like the high school equivalent of those condescending "Our Class Rules" posters every teacher had in elementary school—which, by the way, he had as well. Whether condescending or not, I had broken the biggest no-no on that list: No tardiness.

Oho boy, this'll be fun.

I stepped into class, I was greeted by everyone in class's gaze swinging around to stare at me. One gaze in particular—blue and amused—stuck out among the sea of eyes.

"Miss. Harkinian," Mr. Gorman snapped, pointing to his huge, laminated version of the class rules he'd hung next to the blackboard with a metre stick. "What, I ask you, is rule number one?"

I squirmed, clutching my books to my chest. "Um, don't talk about Fight Club?"

A chorus of whispers and snickers echoed through the classroom, and Mr. Gorman glared at me. I clamped my mouth shut, regretting the comment.

"Very amusing, Miss Harkinian." He tutted, not looking remotely as amused as the rest of the class. "But I don't tolerate tardiness."

I glanced at the clock by the door. "Sorry, sir, but I—"

He cut me off. "Am old enough to be able to plan ahead in order to avoid tardiness?"

I bristled. If I had been a normal teenage girl, I'd have complied like a good little girl and then bitched about it later to my friends. But see, I have this wee tendency to speak my mind when I am particularly cranky. And today was definitely a grumpy day.

"With all due respect sir," I said, squeezing my books tight to my chest. "I don't believe a ten minute tardiness is any reason to shame me in front of the class."

Surprised whispers broke out among the class. Link grinned at me. I ignored him.

"Pardon me, Miss Harkinian?" Mr. Gorman asked, staring at me through narrowed eyes.

"Sir, I think Zelda is right." A voice chimed from the back of the room.

Mr. Gorman's eyes slid past me to over my shoulder. "Is there something you would like to add, Mr. McCormick?"

I glared back at Link, mouthing; _"I don't need your help!"_

He ignored me and stood up, blue eyes filled with a mischievous light. "You know, sir," He continued. "You really can't treat a lady like that."

Mr. Gorman opened his mouth, put promptly closed it, red-faced and embarrassed.

I restrained a smile, but Link wasn't finished.

"Mr. G, you're not married, are you?" He asked, cocking his handsome head and raising both golden brows in challenge, as the giggles of his fan club sprinkled behind him. "If you were, you'd know that you must treat a lady with—"

"Enough!" Mr. Gorman sputtered, having found his voice again. "Go down to see Mrs. Dotour right this instant, both of you!"

My faint smile dissolved, but Link was unconcerned.

Mrs. Dotour was the school principal. She was a small, round woman with some of the craziest hairstyles I'd ever seen. She also happened to be the mother of one of Link's closest friends, Kafei, which was probably the reason he was totally at ease with this. Or hell, maybe he just didn't care.

Grudgingly, I trudged out of class, following Link into the hall. Once we were in the hall, our classroom door slammed shut behind us. The loud sound was what made what just happened finally sink in: I'd probably gotten myself detention. On the day that I was supposed to meet with Mr. Agahnim, I had gotten myself detention. Crap.

As the realization registered in my brain, I whirled around to the direction of the principal's office, spouting curses all the while.

"My, our Princess has such a dirty mouth." Link said next to me, feigning a shocked/horrified expression.

I turned my head sharply in his direction, glaring.

He laughed. "Careful. You'll get whiplash."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "You know you made things, like, a _million _times worse?"

"Did I?" He asked, lazily shoving his empty hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Figures. He's possibly one of the smartest kids in the class, and the lazy bastard doesn't even bring his books to class—and that's assuming he even _has _any.

"Yes," I answered frostily. "You did."

"By sticking up for you?"

"I never asked for your help."

He made an indignant sound. "Well, aren't we ungrateful?"

I stared up at him, my eyes narrowed into slits. "Shut. Up."

Amusement flickered in the blue depths of his gaze, making me madder. Deciding against running my mouth off again, I bit my tongue and strode past him.

"Princess," Link easily caught up to me. "Are you forgetting who's fixing your truck free of charge?"

I stopped dead right in front of the front office's doors, cheeks flushing with shame. I actually had forgotten about that. He'd done me a huge favor meanwhile not expecting a thing in return, and here I was treating him like crap. I spun around so I could face him.

"Sorry." I said with a sigh. "I…I'm sorry, but I can't get detention." I bit my lip. "Not tonight. I have a… family commitment that I absolutely _can't _miss."

He inspected my face curiously, then raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He asked.

I nodded, staring at my shoes and sighing again. "And now I'm so screwed, it's not even funny."

"Maybe not." Link said, taking hold of my wrist and lightly tugging me toward the office doors. The feel of his hand on my wrist sent those stupid tingles coursing up my arm.

"Wait!" I said frantically. "What are you going to do?"

He stopped, his free hand that wasn't holding mine resting on the stainless-steel door handle. Then he looked back at me with a winning smile. "I'll do what I do best; charm people."

Before I could argue, or even reply, Link pulled me into the office.

Behind the counter, Miss "Tally" Talbot, the school's new twenty-something office intern, is the only person sitting there. I wondered where Mrs. Peirce—the nice old lady who's worked at Ordon High since she was a nice young lady—was today.

"Howdy!" Tally said, giving Link and I a jaunty wave. "You darlin's stirrin' up some trouble?" She asked, smiling broadly despite the fact that we were here because we had been, as she put it, 'stirrin' up some trouble'.

Tally was a… nice girl, I guess, but to be honest; she wouldn't be winning herself a Nobel Prize any time soon. And I wasn't so sure that her dyed green hair and skin-tight attire were all that professional for the workplace either—the woman showed more cleavage than most modern prom dresses.

Link released my wrist and leaned onto the counter, evidently doing what he did best, as promised. I didn't hear what he was saying, except that it ultimately ended with Tally batting her purdy lashes and giggling like a schoolgirl. It was an incredible effort not to roll my eyes at the shameless display.

Still giggling at something Link had said, Tally turned to her computer and clicked around for a few moments. She turned back to him, and grinned, placing one finger to her lips and another twisting a stand of hair flirtatiously. "Just keep this 'tween us, ya hear?" She said. And then she actually winked!

I looked away so I _could_ roll my eyes without them seeing. Come on! He was _seventeen_! I suppose not even women who are several years older than him are immune to his handsome spell.

"Thanks, Tally." Link said, sending her a dazzling smile that had her momentarily dazed.

He then turned to the door and strode out, dragging me behind him by my elbow. Once we had left the office and were in the safety of the empty hall, I tugged my elbow free.

"What did you do?" I hissed, clutching my history books so closely to my body it hurt.

He shrugged, grinning. "I helped you."

I raised a cynical brow. "By flirting with someone several years older than you?"

Another shrug. "It's where my skills lie."

"What did you get her to do?" I asked, peering past him to the office doors.

"I just got her to sign us out with excused absents." Link pressed his lips together. "By the way, you had a dentist appointment through this period until lunch."

I blinked, certain I'd heard him wrong. "Wait… until _lunch?_" I repeated. The word 'lunch' made me remember that I hadn't eaten anything today. My stomach gurgled loudly, and I blushed, resisting the urge to tell it to shut up.

Link cocked his head, having heard my stomach, and whistled. "You okay there, Princess? That doesn't sound so good."

"Um," I mumbled, my stomach growling again, this time with a vengeance. "I kinda skipped out on breakfast today." I admitted.

His eyes darted to my stomach, then back to my face, a grin breaking across his lips. "Well, that won't do." He said, running a hand through his hair.

I flushed, hating that he could actually _hear _my stomach. "I'll live."

Link tucked his hand in his back pocket, and pulled out a pair of keys, dangling them in front of me. "Tell you what," He said, curling his hand around the keys. "I'll try my best to satisfy the beast and take you out to breakfast. How does that sound?"

_Um, breakfast with the school hottie when I'm ravenous? Sounds too good to be true. _I refused to say.

"I don't have my wallet." I said flatly instead.

"My treat." He insisted, pleading me with his eyes. His eyes that were _so hard _not to melt under the weight of.

I glanced around, and finally sighed in defeat. _Oh, what the hell? _"Fine, sure. Whatever." I said as calmly as I could muster, though I was bouncing off the walls on the inside.

Link smiled, and headed straight for the main entrance of Ordon High, knowing that was I was following.

* * *

**Ta daa! So that's all I got for this chappy. Not sure if you noticed but, yes, Tally is the mayor's secretary fro****m Majora's Mask. She didn't have a name (That I was aware of, anyway) so I just gave her one.**

**Please review!**


	4. Diners and Interrogations

**Hi again! Hope you enjoy this chapter, it took a lot of time to write :)**

* * *

**THIEF**

**Chapter four—Diners and Interrogations **

* * *

_This is stupid. _I decided as we entered The Old Hylian Mill, which was a locally owned diner that served breakfast all day. _This is so, so stupid and dumb and stupid. _

Had I been a smart girl, I would've rejected Link's offer for breakfast then hid in the school bathroom until lunch. That's what I should've done. Not follow him to a nearly-empty diner on the edge of town like some dazzled, hormone-crazed moron. And I _certainly _shouldn't have let him lead me to the vinyl booth in the back of the restaurant—which, by the way, was farthest from the rest of customers. I didn't even look good today, since I'd simply grabbed the first things in my drawer without really thinking about it. I was wearing mismatched clothes; a pair of purple sweat pants I usually reserved for home-use only, and a green t-shirt bearing the words _2 cool 4 U!_ The irony of the shirt was impeccable, considering that I felt anything _but _cool at the moment.

It didn't help that Link was looking deliciously rough today in faded jeans and worn black t-shirt that looked sinfully soft to the touch…

I quickly tore my gaze from the collar of his shirt, blushing like mad as the waitress approached with some menus. When she was gone, I opened mine and stared at it as if it contained the meaning of life.

I only ended up ordering orange juice, since I didn't want to make the bill too high. My stomach gurgled in protest, but I didn't need to be in anyone's debt.

Once we ordered and waitress had moved on, taking away the object I'd been giving my undivided attention to with her, I started staring at the table. I wouldn't allow myself to become another conquest, no matter how soft his shirt looked or how kissable those lips seemed. No matter how good either of those things would feel.

_Back up! _My thoughts were taking a dangerous curve.

"Princess," A voice said, snapping me from my daze.

I blinked once, twice, bracing myself, and then met Link's cobalt gaze. "Yeah?"

He leaned forward, cocking his head at me intently. "Why didn't you order anything?"

"I… I did." I said defensively.

"Let's rephrase that, shall we?" He licked his lips and cocked a brow at me. "Why didn't you order anything _solid_?"

"I'm not hungry." I mumbled. Not sooner the words left my mouth, my stupid traitor stomach started to growl.

"You're lying." It wasn't a question.

I didn't say anything and started ripping my napkin into long shreds.

"Princess." The flirtation and teasing light to his voice had evaporated, sounding somber and frustrated now.

I looked up, startled by the change of mood. "What?" I asked.

Link's tawny brow knit together, and he shook his head. "You…" He leaned back in his vinyl seat, a wry smile on his face. "You confuse me."

I raised a brow at him. "I confuse you?"

He nodded. "Yes, you really do."

"Why?" I inquired, cocking my head to the side.

He gestured to me. "You're so… stubborn."

I scowled and crossed my arms. "Am not!"

"You won't let me help you," Link pointed out. "Even if it's something as simple as buying you breakfast."

"I don't need your hospitality." I muttered as I tore the shreds of the napkin into white confetti. "I was fine."

Link sighed, annoyed with me. "No you weren't. You looked about ready to pass out in the hallway."

I snorted, and his easy smile returned.

"I did not." I scoffed.

"Alright, so maybe I exaggerated a bit." He pointed at me. "But my point still stands; you're ungodly stubborn."

"So what?" I said, pushing the remains of my napkin around on my placemat with my fork. "Like you're Mr. Perfect."

He opened his mouth to say something, but I kept on talking.

"You're a cocky, overconfident troublemaker." I continued. "And you're far too aware of your own hotness."

Link grinned and leaned forward onto the table again. "So I'm hot, am I?"

I flushed, mentally telling myself to shut up. However, my mouth seemed to be moving without my consent. "What? Do you really think everyone gets their way so easily? It's a nice thought, but no. Only the pretty people do."

"Really?" He asked, clearly intrigued.

I sighed. Of course he wouldn't know how the other half lives; he was probably born adorably cute, and then grew into unduly handsome—likely skipping the awkward years altogether. "Uh-huh." I murmured, indolently nibbling on my unused fork.

"See?" Link pointed to my fork. "You _are _hungry."

Realizing what I was doing, I threw the fork back onto the table. "Shut up." I muttered grumpily.

He crossed his arms across his broad chest and smiled crookedly, and I couldn't help but admire what the pose did for his chest and arms—that being great things.

Almost out of nowhere, the waitress appeared, placing down my juice in front of me and Link's food in front of him. She smiled—a little _too _warmly, if you ask me—and left us to ourselves.

Almost immediately after we were alone again, he picked up his fork and knife and started cutting the waffles into neat squares. I watched in curiosity, ignoring my stomach's cries for food. I'd never seen a guy eat like that; most of them just wanted to shovel it in as quickly as possible. Once the cutting was done, he stabbed a piece of waffle and thrust it toward me, precariously dangling it right in front of my nose.

"Um, that's a lovely piece of waffle?" I said, leaning away from it. The damn thing was making my mouth water.

"Eat." Link commanded, holding my gaze. "We're not leaving until you do."

I blinked at him. "What? No! I told you, I'm fine."

"Eat, Princess." He repeated, still holding the fork out for me.

I flicked my eyes between his face, and the very appetizing piece of waffle, biting my lip. "I… I don't want it."

"Yes, you do." It was statement.

"Link!" I exclaimed, tightening my grip on my juice.

"Yes?"

"Stop it."

"Hmm… no, I don't think I'll do that, bit-sized Harkinian."

I scowled again. Damn, that waffle was starting to look almost as delectable as the person offering it.

"Oh fine!" I finally caved, biting down on the fork. I chewed and swallowed, barely tasting it. Then I stuck out my tongue. "All gone, see?"

Link nodded, pulling back his fork. "Yeah, I see." He skewered another piece, and held it out for me again.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're going to make me eat the whole thing, aren't you?"

He grinned.

I groaned. "Well then, at the very least let me feed myself!" I snapped, snagging the fork from him. "Seriously, we looked like one of those annoying couples who can't keep the PDA to a minimum." I plopped the piece into my mouth.

I reached across the table to snag another piece.

Link pushed the plate toward me, and rested his elbows on the table. "You think we look like a couple?"

"Well, being alone and all… and with you feeding me…" I shrugged, my cheeks tinting pink.

He only cocked his head to the side and smiled, the action making my stomach flutter a little. I shoveled another piece of waffle into my mouth to get my mind of off the boy sitting in front of me.

We sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds I could pick up were the conversations of the minimal other customers and waiters.

"You're interesting Harkinian, you know that?" Link suddenly said.

I frowned. "How so?"

He frowned as well, but in thought. "I don't know. It's just… how you act and how you carry yourself. You're… different than most girls."

I snorted again. "So I'm a freak?"

Link shook his head, smiling. "Not a freak. Special, I'd say."

I tossed another piece into my mouth before replying. "How am I special?"

He shrugged. "I just don't really know what to make of you sometimes."

"Enlighten me." I said.

"You don't put up with anyone's shit," Link explained bluntly. "Not mine, not authority's. Nobody's."

I flushed, remembering what had happened in class. "That's because I was grumpy." I mumbled feebly.

"What about that day in the hall?" He asked, resting his chiselled face on his knuckles. "You didn't hesitate to give me a piece of your mind."

I remembered how I'd threatened him with Midna's 'magic', smiling fondly. "So, what? Are you a sadomasochist or something?" I asked. "Is that why you've been bugging me lately? So I can threaten you some more?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, nothing like that. You just interested me."

I took a sip of my orange juice. "I'm not that interesting." I admitted.

"Oh contraire, I find you very intriguing." He said a matter-of-factly. "For instance, you care a lot about school, right?"

I nodded, nibbling along the edge of the waffle.

"Then why do you miss so much of it?"

I froze. He was right. That is odd. Flustered, I put my fork back onto the placemat. "I could ask you the same question." I said.

Link nodded. "You could, but I would have a legitimate answer."

I cocked my brow at him. "Which would be…?"

"I don't care about school."

I snorted. "Yeah. Real legit."

He grinned boyishly, running a careless hand through his impeccably messy hair. "Okay, maybe not _legitimate_, but at least it makes some sense."

I shrugged, hoping he'd just drop the subject.

"And your reason would be?"

Grr…

"My guardian is just really protective," I lied, poking my waffles. "If I have, like, a runny nose or something she insists on staying home." I shrugged, shovelling the last few pieces of waffle into my mouth. I probably looked like a huge pig, but what did I care how I looked in front of Link Mc-freaking-Cormick? If I was lucky, maybe doing so will disgust him so much that he'll go take his infinite hotness, and his tingles, and stop pursuing me.

Link only smiled though—despite my far-from ladylike display—his focus on my now-empty plate. "Now, I hate to say I told you so but," He leaned forward on the smooth table, moving dangerously close to me. "I told you so."

I tried to roll my eyes, but he'd entered the danger-zone. As in, my entire body was buzzing with hormones from his closeness. As in, I could practically see my reflection in his pretty eyes. As in, I must move out of his immediate proximity before I faint. Thankfully, he moved back, effectively halting the latter situation from happening.

"I'm paying you back," I said pointedly, blinking to clear up the lusty fog in my head. "For the truck too, eventually."

Now he was the one to roll his eyes. "You can try. I won't accept it."

"You won't accept payments for your work?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

"Nope."

"Now who's stubborn?"

"Still you."

I growled under my breath as Link called for the bill from the all-too-eager-to-serve waitress.

He paid and we left, the diner door jingling softly behind us.

"So, where to now?" Link asked, shrugging on his leather jacket.

"The school bathroom to hide until lunch." I said, only half-jokingly as I shivered in the chilly morning air. "Shoot. I forgot my jacket inside."

"I'll get—"

I cut him off. "No, _you'll _go wait by the truck while _I _get it." I said sternly.

He shook his head as if this were an unreasonable request, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "So stubborn." He muttered, starting off toward the green pick-up truck.

"Am not!" I yelled after him.

Link turned around, smiling. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Princess."

I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him like an obnoxious kindergartener, and ducked back into The Old Hylian Mill—which, come to think of it, was a peculiar name, since the place was neither old nor a mill.

Once inside, I made a beeline for our now-vacant table. My sweater was draped over the backrest of the squeaky, vinyl seat; just where I'd left it. I grabbed the thing, slipped it on, and headed back outside. The door tingled cheerfully behind me again, and I started walking across the parking lot, sifting through my pockets for my phone. Hopefully the thing wasn't stolen, though I wasn't sure what anyone would want with my cheap, zero-rupee phone.

Suddenly, I heard a strange noise. It was loud and high-pitched, a screech. I looked up, startled. I saw two things at once; Link's horrified face from across the parking lot, and more importantly, the black SUV that was speeding right toward me.

I didn't have time to run. I didn't have time to dodge, or jump back. I didn't even have time to close my eyes and brace myself for the impact.

Just before the vehicle crushed me, I felt something yank me back. I shrieked as I fell backward, my shoulders coming into contact with something warm and soft. The SUV roared past me, so close that the rush of air from its passing picked up the ends of my hair, and tossed it back at my face. A low oath sounded below me as the screech of car brakes cut through the thick, foggy morning air. I looked up in time to see the SUV tearing out of the parking lot, and out of sight.

The car didn't slow down, not even for a second, until it had to turn around.

I blinked. _Wait. How am I even alive right now?_

And then I felt it; the warmth, the rapidly beating heart against my back. There was someone underneath me.

As quickly as I could, I rolled off said person and pulled myself to a sitting position. Next to me, Link sat up, brushing the dust off his leather jacket. There was this strange hardness to his eyes, something I'd never seen on him before. Then he blinked and it was gone, making me wonder if it had ever really been there in the first place.

"Well," He said, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. "Let's not do that again."

I simply stared, speechless, for a moment. How? How did the driver miss me? I was wearing green and purple, for Din's sake! It's not like I was hard to miss! Finally, I broke out of my shell-shocked stupor.

"What the hell?" I shrieked. "That guy… it was almost like he was _trying_ to hit me!"

A horrible feeling boiled in the pit of my gut. Oh no. Could I have been found out? Was the driver a Seeker?

I knew that not all Seekers wanted to obtain the Triforce; some of them wanted to destroy it, and me by default. Those were the scariest type of Seeker, the type that doesn't care if I live or die. The type that would prefer the latter.

I swallowed. Oh Goddess. That means I'll have to move back into HTPA headquarters. That means I'll have to leave my home, every one of my friends, and my future behind.

"Drunk driver, I bet." Link said, looking away from me.

I exhaled. Maybe he's right. It could've just been a drunk driver, though I'm not sure how many people drink this time of day. I don't have to say anything to HTPA about this incident—

"We should call the police." Link murmured, taking out his cell phone.

"No!" I blurted, snatching his phone from him without thinking.

"Why not?"

I blinked. _Oh, I don't know. Maybe because if you do, I'll be yanked out of school, lose all contact with my friends, and will have to live in an underground base in the middle of a freaking desert. So it would be much preferred if you could refrain from doing so, please. _Of course, I couldn't tell him that, he'd think I was baloney with a side of nuts.

"It's my guardian," I said instead, feeling slightly guilty for blaming every abnormality in my life on Impa. "She's protective, like I said before. If she finds out about this, I won't be allowed to leave the house." I forced a laugh. "She watches too many of those investigative TV shows about criminals."

After years of keeping secrets, I long ago become a pretty decent liar. Although it wasn't a skill I was particularly proud of, it was really coming in handy today.

Suddenly, another thing sunk in. I whipped my head around to Link's direction. "How did you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?"

I pointed to his truck, all the way across the lot. "You were over there, by your truck." I dropped my pointing finger. "And suddenly, you were right here behind me. How did you do it?" I couldn't hide the suspicion in my voice.

"No, I wasn't." Link answered, his expression hard again.

"Yes, you were." I insisted. "I saw you. You looked horrified, that's how I knew something was happening."

He made an uncharacteristic growling noise under his breath. "You're wrong, I was walking with you."

I blinked at him. Why would he lie to me? Did he think I was stupid? "No, you weren't." I said with certainty. "You were standing right by your truck, like I asked you to. And then you pulled me out of the way of the SUV, even though you weren't anywhere near me…" I trailed off, realizing how insane it sounded. But I knew I was right, whether he liked it or not.

"You were in shock, Harkinian." He said flatly. "You must've be seeing things."

"Don't tell me I was in shock." I snapped, my temper flaring. "I know what I saw, and I know it was real."

"Harkinian…" Link growled my last name, just as a few of the waitresses and customers clamored through the doors.

"Are you kids okay?" The one that served us asked, her eyes wide with concern.

Link sighed, and plastered one of his dazzling smiles on his face before turning on the panicked women. "We're fine, thank you."

She returned the smile, sickly sweet. Gag. "That's a relief. Have you called the police?"

He nodded. "We reported a possible drunk-driver, yes." A perfectly executed lie. If hadn't known it wasn't true, I probably would've believed him.

Another waitress stepped out among the rest, older, probably somewhere in her late forties. "Y'all be careful, now." She said with the same sternness of a mother. "That was a close one."

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. _Yeah, 'cause I just like to hang out in front of fast-moving vehicles for shits and giggles. _

"We will, ma'am." Link stood, and helped me up. "Let's get out of here." He muttered only to me, leading me to his truck.

"I still want to know how you did it." I muttered back.

He sighed, exasperated. "Look, I did you a favor by not calling the police. Now do me one, and drop the subject."

I fell silent. Maybe I was crazy for thinking so, but I felt I at least owed him that.

* * *

The Hylian Triforce Protection Agency headquarters was buried under several feet of sand, somewhere deep in the Gerudo Desert. Every room in the place sported security cameras, armed staff members and solid titanium wall plates. Mr. Agahnim, the founder and C.E.O, was a very rich man and built the place up until it could be the highest funded company in the country.

I currently sat between Impa and Nabooru in the little waiting room outside of Mr. Agahnim's office. We were all dressed semi-formally in dress pants and blouses, our hair tied back in tight buns. Business trips to HTPA always called for professional attire.

Mr. Agahnim's assistant/secretary—Veran Grimsby, judging by the little golden plaque sitting atop her desk—sat in a desk in the far corner of the room, typing away at her computer.

For about the eighth time since we got here, I asked Veran what time it was.

"4:36." Veran said in a snide, irritated tone.

I rolled my eyes. _Then put up a friggin clock in here. _I then went back to my obsessive thumb-twiddling, though it was hard because Impa had a firm hold on my hand.

Nabooru wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry, Blondie." She murmured. "I'm sure everything's just fine with Mr. Agahnim, and you'll be in an' out of there in a flash."

I nodded, sending her a feeble smile.

At that moment, a voice rang out of Veran's intercom. "Veran, send Miss Harkinian in, please."

I swallowed. Nab nodded at me in encouragement. After taking several deep breaths, I stood up, only to be tugged back down. I looked back in surprise, realizing Impa had been the one to keep me in place. She too, seemed surprised by her actions, and immediately dropped my hand.

"Sorry, dear." She muttered, folding her hands on her lap. "Go on."

I knit my brow together. Lately, Impa has been acting so strange, and I can't for the life of me place why.

"Imps, is something—?" I began.

"Mr. Agahnim wishes to see you, Miss Harkinian." Veran snapped from her place behind her computer. "Don't keep him waiting."

I restrained a glare in the secretary's direction and marched up to the grand, solid metal doors. As I approached, the doors opened with a faint _whoosh _sound. I took another unsteady breath and stepped through.

The room was grand, the ceiling high and the walls tall. The walls were metal plated, like the rest of the building, but these plates were polished almost to resemble a mirror and there were tiny decorative designs etched into its surface. Plaques and other framed paperwork adorned the walls, and a large shimmering chandelier hung from the ceiling. In the center of the room, there was a large oak desk. Sitting at the oak desk, was Mr. Agahnim himself.

He was a large man, and I didn't mean fat. I mean, the big body-builder kind of large. He was tall with skin paler than even mine, with lank dark hair gelled back to expose his forehead. His eyes flashed gold as I stepped in the office, already uncomfortable.

"Miss Harkinian." He said, waving me over. "Come and sit with me." He gestured to the cushy red armchair that sat at the other side of his desk.

A chill ran down my spine. This man, despite the fact that he was my boss and therefore a good person, was giving me some seriously bad vibes. Slowly but surely, I hesitantly made my way to the armchair and sat down.

"Now, as I'm sure you're aware, we've been having problems finding this thief." Mr. Agahnim began. "It's been a very long time since one group of Seekers has caused this company so much trouble. And you, Miss Harkinian, are our only agent who's come into direct contact with one of them."

I winced quietly. No wonder they've been doubting me; that sounds pretty suspicious.

Mr. Agahnim leaned forward on his desk, golden eyes scrutinizing me in a way that made me squirm. "I have received information that this boy told you he was not a Seeker, correct?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And he said he was not after the Hero's weapons for money, yes?"

Another nod, and I shifted my weight uncomfortably.

Mr. Agahnim leaned back against his chair's backrest again. "And what does this boy look like?"

I blinked. "What? Sir, I have already given a description of—"

"Answer the question, Miss Harkinian."

I swallowed my protests. "He was… he was young, I think. My age or a little older. From the little patch of skin I could see, he looked tanned. Slimmer build, but definitely muscled." I stopped, blushing. It had felt odd the first time I gave this description, but now it felt even stranger. I needed to just suck it up. Not-Astley was probably a good-looking guy, but that didn't make him a good person. "Um, he had dark blond-ish hair, blue eyes and really long eyelashes…" I trailed off. Goddesses, I did almost sound like I had the hots for him, didn't I? "I think." I added to lower suspicion.

Mr. Agahnim stared at me a moment, his face unreadable. "I see."

_Had I said something wrong?_ I stared at my sweaty hands on my lap, biting the inside of my cheek so hard it hurt.

"And this… boy, you said he seemed to have strange powers of some sort?"

"Yes, sir." I said, glancing up at my boss warily. "He… seemed to be able to… teleport, or something. And his fighting skills seemed incredibly advanced for someone so young." I winced again. The whole 'teleportation' thing seemed so asinine when you hear it out loud.

"Miss Harkinian, tell me." Mr. Agahnim started straightening the papers and files on his desk. "Have you ever heard of Farore's Wind?"

I looked up, nodding. "Of course, sir. It's one of the three spells that each of the Great Fairies of Hyrule granted to the Hero of Time, right?"

"Correct." Mr. Agahnim nodded in approval. "Now, about a week ago, we received reports from the museum holding them that one was stolen."

"Farore's Wind." I finished for him in awe.

My boss clapped lightly as if I'd preformed a perfect backflip. I ducked my head to hide my red face.

"Correct again, Miss Harkinian." He said in a voice that suggested I was a bit slow. "But what do the legends say about those spells?"

I racked my brain for the answer. _What did those legends say about the spell? Sheesh, for someone who practically starred in the legends, I sure as heck don't know much about them. _"Um, I'm not entirely sure, sir." I finally admitted.

Mr. Agahnim regarded me dryly, as if disappointed with my lack of knowledge. "The legends say only the wielder of Wisdom or Courage can use them."

I blinked slowly, before what he was hinting at sunk in. "You—you think that _I _helped him?" I asked, my voice rising unevenly. "I would never help—!"

"Please calm yourself, Miss Harkinian, I accused you of no such thing."

I clamped my mouth shut. "I apologize, sir."

He nodded, acknowledging my apology. I wasn't so sure he was accepting it though. "I feel that perhaps the wielder of Courage may have been manipulated into this."

It made sense: Not-Astley was an incredible fighter from what I could tell, he can apparently use Farore's Wind, and he seemed convinced that what he was doing was right. But something about the theory felt… off, like there was something we were missing. Or perhaps I was just thinking about what the legends said about Wisdom (me) and Courage, about their… relationship together.

The legends always said they fell in love, and though it is unknown whether their blood ever mixed, it was a definite possibility. Maybe I was letting that possibility change my better judgement. Maybe I just wanted him to be every bit as perfect as the legends say. Maybe I wanted to fall for someone wonderful like the girls in my romance novels.

I closed my eyes as the blush crept onto my face. That must've been why HTPA assumed that I had a crush on my enemy; because they theorized he might've been the Hero.

"That… very well could be, sir." I said flatly, with uncertainty.

Satisfied, Mr. Agahnim leaned forward again on his glossy oak desk. "I'm sure Ms. Peers has shared our theory about where approximately we may find this boy, correct?"

I nodded. "Yes, in Ordon."

"And is there anyone you've seen which you suspect could be the thief?"

I shook my head. "No sir, but I'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

My boss folded his hands on his desk. "I see." His tone suggested he didn't quite believe me.

I tried not to defend myself, and bit back the protests that bubbled on my tongue.

"Well then, Miss Harkinian," Mr. Agahnim said, shuffling some of the files on his desk before turning his attention to his sleek computer screen. "That was all I wanted to speak with you about. You are dismissed."

I stood, slightly shaky on my feet. _Was that seriously it? He called me here to tell me things I already knew and something Impa could've just as easily told me? _

I clenched my hands around the waist of my shirt, seething. No. This was all to get a message across_: We don't trust you. If you know what's good for you, you won't betray us. _

"Thank you, sir." I said, backing up until I heard the door's telltale _whoosh _sound behind me. _I got your message loud and clear._

* * *

"Zellie, have you ever stopped to wonder what the purpose of earlobes are?" Malon asked as she slid into the picnic bench across from me.

We were eating outside, since it was now officially May, and therefore that much closer to summer. And Ruto wanted to work on her tan. She was currently lying across the empty part of the picnic bench, her fair arms tilted upward to catch the sun's rays, her leg dangling off the edge of the bench.

I glanced up from my vacant staring contest with my greasy cafeteria French fries and frowned. "Hello to you too, and, um, what?"

"Earlobes." She replied, unwrapping her sandwich. "Do they even have a purpose?"

I stared at her a moment, trying to figure out what was going on inside that weird little head of hers.

"You're so weird." Midna commented mildly in the seat next to me, stirring her instant noodles.

Next to Malon, Ilia snorted into her water bottle, resulting in a jab to the ribs from Malon.

"Seriously though," She pressed. "Have you ever wondered what they do?"

"Earlobes?" I repeated, raising a brow.

She nodded.

"No."

"Never." Midna replied, popping a noodle into her mouth.

"Nope." Ilia said with a shrug.

"Not really, Mally." Ruto said, cracking one eye open under her sunglasses.

"Well, time to get philosopical." Malon said.

"Philosophical." I corrected. "And what exactly brought this on?"

Malon shrugged and idly stirred her iced tea with her straw. "In science, Mr. Ingo was discussing all the useless parts of the human body. I wondered if earlobes fit into the category." She picked up a hollow piece of ice with her straw and cracked it between her teeth.

"They must do something," Midna finally reasoned, braiding a small portion of her tri-coloured hair. "Otherwise we wouldn't have them."

"Not necessarily," Malon said, holding up a finger. "I mean, men have nipples and they totally don't need them."

Ilia snorted again, reaching over to steal a fry from me. "I love how you've totally changed the subject to nipples now. I mean, that's great." She bit into the soggy fry and grimaced. "Ew, is there vinegar on these?"

I nodded and she wrinkled her nose, ditching the rest of the fry on the lush school grass.

"Actually," Midna said, twisting her noodles on her fork expertly. "Both earlobes and nipples on men have purposes."

"Which would be…?" Malon inquired.

Midna shrugged. "To pierce them, of course." She lifted the hair from around her ear, gesturing to the many silver piercings that dotted their way up her cartilage and down to her earlobe.

"No way," Malon argued, shaking her head. "Do you think Farore created earlobes with the idea of shoving metal through them in mind?" She snorted. "And pierced nipples? No thank you."

"So you don't find pierced nipples sexy?" Midna asked, tugging her new braid free when she wasn't satisfied with it. "You're missing out, man."

At that, Ruto sat up, shoving her sunglasses atop her head. "New topic!" She declared, singing her legs around so that they were now under the table. "Do you find ear piercings on a guy hot?"

"This conversation is reducing us to bimbos." I interjected, only to be ignored.

Midna smiled. "Oh, heck yeah."

Malon shrugged indifferently, chewing on her straw. "I don't really care. It wouldn't turn me off if I was asked out by a guy with ear piercings."

"Depends," Ilia said, twisting her water bottle cap on the picnic table. "If the rest of him is sexy, then sure." She re-screwed the lid back onto the bottle. "Now if he's some big, sweaty kid, I'm not too sure ear piercings will do much to help."

"I thought it was the inside that counts?" I said innocently, popping a vinegar-soaked fry into my mouth.

"Of course," Malon agreed. "But I mean, hotness is kind of like gravy: The meal is delicious without it, but it's even tastier with it." She frowned. "…or something along those lines."

I rolled my eyes. "Hm. Brilliant analogy there, Mally Ball."

Malon giggled and threw her crumpled up, now-empty sandwich wrap at me. "Thanks, Zellie Bell."

"Zellie!" Someone called behind me. Actually, it sounded more like _Zellieeeeeeeeeeee! _

I turned around to find Saria skipping over to our lunch table, Mido stumbling on behind her like a lovesick puppy. She hopped up to our table, her short, forest green hair bouncing around her head from the movement. Her matching green t-shirt bore the phrase: _Fish are Friends, Not Food!_ Saria was literally one of the only people I've met our age who was actually smaller than me.

"Sari." I nodded to her. "What's up?"

"Oh nothing, really," She said. "The eco team's having another rally this weekend, and in two weeks we'll be planting trees in Hyrule Field, and after that, we'll…"

Having finally caught up with Saria, Mido mumbled very quietly next to her, "The fight, Saria. Don't forget about the fight."

"Oh!" Saria clamped a hand over her mouth. "Thanks, Mido!" she gasped, grabbing his hands, and shaking them in thanks. He blushed, and scurried away once she released him.

Saria didn't seem to notice his retreat and turned to me. "Zellie, you won't believe it!" She giggled, literally hopping in excitement.

"Believe what?" I asked curiously.

"There's a fight!" She sang, clasping her hands together.

I raised a brow, and picked up a fry to nibble on. "Hmm. Okay, Sar. I think we need to talk about this little sadism problem you have there."

Another giggle bubbled from her mouth and she shook her head fervently. "No, no, no, Zellie!" Saria paused, gathering her bearings. "The fight's about you!"

I nearly choked on the fry. Midna reached over to pat my back as I sputtered.

"What do you mean, 'the fight's about me'?" I asked after taking a long sip of water to ease my cough.

"I mean, like, it's over you!" Saria said as if it were obvious.

I waited for her to start laughing and tell me she was kidding, but she only continued to look genuinely excited.

"You're serious?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm serious!"

I bit my lip, tilting my head back and forth as I contemplated whether this was real. _Alright, I'll bite. _"Who's it between?"

"Okay, so you know that guy? You know the one with the one red hair spike who's kinda big and burly? I think he's in your English class." Saria tapped her chin.

Of course I knew who she was talking about; he sat in front of me and has been shooting me weird glances all semester. One day when I was having a cranky day, I'd snapped at him, asking why he kept staring at me. He'd gotten all red-faced, and mumbled something incoherent, before turning away from me without even answering the question. Afterwards, I'd felt kind of bad for snapping at him. I think his name was Goose or something.

"What about him?" I asked warily.

"Well, you know how you've been getting a lot of attention from Link lately?"

As if I could forget. "Yeah," I said, growing more uneasy.

Saria giggled again, utterly too giddy to be delivering this news. "So once Spikey-head found out about that, he confronted Link in the parking lot. Just trying to pick a fight, I guess. Right now he's just yelling at him, but it could very well turn into a fist fight. _Real_ soon."

She was barely finished talking before I stood up from my spot, and dashed in the direction of the parking lot.

* * *

**Okay. I really didn't want to end that chapter there, but hey? Wadda'ya gonna do? It was getting too long.**

**Thanks to everyone! I love your faces (And the rest of you!) for the support!**

**Review if you please!**


	5. Fists of Fury

**Thanks so much for the support everyone! It honestly makes my day, week and month. Enjoy!**

* * *

**THIEF**

**Chapter five—Fists of Fury**

* * *

So here's the thing; I'm not really used to having boys fight over me. I wasn't ugly, nor did I think so of myself, but I didn't turn heads either. I certainly didn't warrant fistfights.

The fact that this was happening was mind-boggling, to say the least. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe Saria was playing a prank on me. Maybe everyone was in on it. Whatever the case, I still sprinted like I had the police on my tail all the way from the back of the school to the front parking lot, where the brawl was supposedly happening.

Something flashed black in the corner of my eye, instinctively, I stopped dead in my tracks and whipped around. My heart dropped to the base of my stomach.

On the road, visible from the side of the school, there was a large black SUV with black-tinted windows; its shiny silver grille glinting in the midday sunlight. It was the same SUV that almost flattened me.

It was just sitting there, idling. I could feel the faceless gaze of the driver, watching me with frightening scrutiny.

There was this moment of terrified silence where I just stared back at the vehicle, unmoving, unwavering; just waiting for the driver to do something.

Then slowly, the SUV eased its way off of the shoulder of the road, and zoomed away. Gone, as if it had never even been there in the first place.

Now, my heart was hammering in my chest, pumping so hard I was sure it would burst.

Was the accident at the diner really an 'accident'—or was it something far more sinister?

I stared at the empty street for what seemed like hours until I was startled by two ninth-graders giggling as they walked past, saying, "It's that cute guy, you know the one in grade eleven?"

"Him? Oh dang. I'm, like, so jealous of whoever they're fighting over."

_Oh yeah, the fight! _I thought, my heart propelling itself from the base of my stomach to my throat.

I shoved the thoughts about the SUV aside and started back into my dead sprint to the school parking lot.

Finally, I had wound my way around the school, and a huge cluster of people came into view. Everyone was pressed closely to one another, circled around something. No. Circled around _two _somethings.

At the back of the cluster, I found that my friends had come to spectate. I jogged up next to Midna and pinched her arm.

"Ouch!" She hissed, rubbing her arm with a scowl. Slowly, it sunk in that it was me. "Zel! Where were you? We beat you here."

I waved it off, stretching onto my toes in a vain effort to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Stupid tall people. "I was distracted. What's happening?"

"Sari was right, it's definitely about you." Midna grinned, her maroon eyes glinting with mischief. "And your lovely blonde locks and your gorgeous blue eyes and your flawless fair skin, and blah, blah, blah."

I smacked her in the same spot where I'd pinched her. "Not funny. I meant has anyone thrown a punch yet?"

"For tiny thing, you sure are strong," she muttered, then sighed. "Not yet. Link's been trying to talk ol' spiky-head there out of fighting him."

I frowned. How strange for someone who had been expelled from his old school for fighting to actually try to prevent one from happening.

Suddenly, a hush went through the crowd.

"I don't want to fight you, Groose." A familiar voice said.

"Why? Are you scared, pretty boy?" Another faceless voice barked.

A murmur of outrage shuddered through the crowd—as quite a lot of them were, in fact, a part of Link's fanclub.

There was a sigh. "No, that's not it. I simply don't feel it'll be a fair fight."

I was struck once again with déjà vu, but I shook it off and grabbed Midna's arm. "Mid, can you get me closer to the fight?"

Midna blinked once then grinned. "Sure thing." She raised her voice a bit, grabbing my arm and pushing past people. "I'll just use that new charm I found yesterday to get past everyone." Her free hand snaked into the front pocket of her vest, searching for the pocket spell book she always carried around.

A few of the people standing in front of us glanced behind them. Seeing who'd said that, they stumbled to get out of the way. As we passed, a few people glared at me—girls, mostly—and some whispered things to their neighbors, "_That's her?" "She's nothing special." "Ooh, shit just got real."_ I blocked them out.

Finally, Midna broke through the ring of people just as the first punch was thrown. It was Groose, not Link, who went for the first hit. I thought for sure that Link was about to get his nose flattened when, at very last second, his hand flashed up and caught the fist that was aimed at his face.

A gasp went through the crowd. I think I was part of it.

"I said I didn't want to fight." Link said, casually dropping Groose's fist.

Groose blinked then scowled. He drew his other fist back and went for another hit.

Once again, Link caught his fist with ease. "You should probably stop trying to hit me. I'll get angry."

"Why don't you stop bugging Zelda!" The redhead retorted, yanking his fist free, before swinging his elbow back and aiming for Link's head.

"That's enough!" I finally yelled, finding my voice.

After hearing my voice, Groose stumbled on his attack and wrenched his arm to a halt, a mere inch from the side of Link's head.

I huffed and marched up behind Link, who had stepped back to turn and look at me. I shoved him aside, and pointed up at Groose.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded.

"Nothing big, really… I was just… uh…" He stammered, his yellow eyes shifting around nervously for an exit.

"Just what?" I asked, trying to look intimidating.

Ever so slowly, red started to creep up his face to match his hair. I waited, still glaring and pointing at him. Abruptly, Groose turned on his heels and marched off, grumbling something intelligible.

I blinked. Oh_-kay. _I'm not entirely sure what _that_ was about.

Behind me, Link laughed softly, jolting me from my confused daze.

"And you!" I spun around to jab an accusatory finger at him. "Don't think you're off the hook, either!"

He held up his hands in defeat.

"Hum, Zellie?" Midna said from her spot, rocking back on her heels as she watched me amusedly. "Yeah, you realize you have spectators, right?"

I dropped my hand, suddenly aware of the huge crowd around us, whispering and watching with round, amused eyes. Face flushing, I grabbed Link's wrist and yanked him past the crowd. I continued to pull him along until we were safe from the watchful eyes of the other students, under a big oak tree at the side of the school.

"Hands to yourself, Princess." He reminded me once I'd released him.

I crossed my arms and fixed him with my finest stink-eye. "Would you mind telling me what _that_ was all about?"

Link shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Groose didn't like me talking to you, and decided I deserved to have my face punched in for even _attempting_ such an abhorrent act." His voice practically dripped sarcasm.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Not that, moron. I meant the part where you let it become a fistfight."

His expression looked appalled, but his eyes glimmered faintly with humor. "Well, last I checked, _he'd _thrown the first punch. I didn't even punch him back."

I scoffed. "Yeah right. You would've flattened his face if I hadn't interfered."

"So, what? I supposed to stand there and let people whale on me?" An indignant snort. "Nice philosophy you've got there, Harkinian. Just let yourself become everybody's go-to doormat."

I scowled, then reached up and knocked on his forehead. "Hello! When someone is trying to provoke you, you just walk away. You don't try to talk to them." I raised a condescending eyebrow. "And you certainly don't taunt them with phrases like 'I don't feel it would be a fair fight'."

Link grinned. If he keeps that up, he'll have laugh lines at nineteen. "You realize you sound like a public-service announcement, right?"

I jabbed a finger at his chest and backed him up against the tree, though the action only proved to amuse him. "Don't you _ever _get into a fight for my sake again, got it? I don't need you doing something so stupid on account of me."

Instead of answering, he reached over to play with a strand of my waist-length hair, a tiny, infuriatingly charming smile on his face. "There's something oddly adorable about your little obsession with trying to order me around." He tucked the tendril behind my ear. "And that little pout you get when I don't listen is even better."

I blinked, blushing as I tried to smooth out my pout—which, just as he said, was tugging on the corners my mouth.

"Stop that." I mumbled.

"Hmm? Stop what?"

_Blatantly abusing my natural female reactions to attractive males, such as yourself. _Nope. Not saying that.

"Invading my personal space and not hesitating to break the no-touchy rule." I said instead, stepping back to allow my face to cool. "And distracting me from your totally deserved scolding."

"I'm distracting to you?" He asked, amusedly.

My face heated right back up again. "Stop that too."

"What?"

"Embarrassing me!" I exclaimed, then blushed. "Don't even say it."

He cocked his head again. "Say what?"

"'I'm embarrassing you?'" I imitated him inaccurately, crossing my arms.

Link laughed out loud, running a hand through his hair. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, thanks."

He only smiled in reply. I let my gaze wander over his shoulder and fiddled with my hands, not quite sure what to do with myself at this point. We stood in silence for a moment, all the while, I felt his eyes glance on the side my face. Instinctively, I reached up to rub my mouth, spying him out of the corner of my eye.

"Okay," I said finally, turning to look at him. "Is there something on my face?"

Link shook his head, a small smile playing his lips.

"Then why are you staring at me?" I snapped.

He laughed. "It's your eyes."

I blinked, self-conscience. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"Nothing," Link answered. "They're only the biggest pair of eyes I've ever seen."

I reached up and clamped a hand over my eyes. Malon had used to call me 'bugsy' when we were littler because of my eyes, even though I didn't really have bug eyes. "Yeah. I know, they're huge."

"Don't cover them. They're cute." I felt him tug my hand off of my eyes.

The blush that had finally faded from my face returned with reinforcements. "You're breaking the rule again." I mumbled, hastily swatting his hand away.

Taking a good step back, he dropped the offending hand to his side. "My bad, Princess."

I opened my mouth to say something. What exactly it was, I didn't know. Thankfully, the bell rung, saving me from having to admit that I didn't actually have anything halfway-through relevant to say.

After the bell finished its rude reminder to us to get our butts to class, I glanced up at him—way too smoldering hot in the current sunshine—and hesitated for a second.

"Bye." I said, ducking my head as I quickly brushed past him. For some obnoxious reason, his quiet laughter seemed to follow me all the way to my locker.

* * *

I skimmed a finger over my sleek new walkie-talkie I'd gotten to replace the one Not-Astley had stolen—_grumble, grumble—_and slipped it into its rightful place in my back pocket. If there were any sign of anything, Nabooru, Vaati and Ghirahim would contact me from their posts

Kneeling in the bushes outside of a newly located Seeker hideout—a modest little motel on the side of a deserted highway with a sign that always read 'No Vacancy', even though there wasn't a single car in the parking lot—I watched the door of room12 warily. I was waiting for a sign that they were home. So far, there's been nothing.

"Anything?" Impa's quiet voice murmured next to me.

I shook my head. "Not a thing."

"I'm going. Watch for them." She whispered.

I nodded wordlessly and she melted into the shadows.

Being able to blend into shadows was an ability that the Sheikah have been using for generations. Impa, being a full-blooded Sheikah, was a master of the technique. It seems almost magical every time she does it; almost as if she actually had vanished.

She appeared right next to room 12, and looked back at me with a question in her eyes.

_Are they there? _

I shook my head and flashed her a thumbs-up. Impa returned the nod and jiggled the lock, testing its durability. I saw her roll her eyes, the word _amateurs _clearly written on her wry features. She reached into one of her suit's many pockets and retrieved a lock pick. She stuck the pick into the lock and smiled as it clicked open.

We both held our breath as she swung the door open and peered inside. After a tense moment of staring into the dark motel room, she waved me over.

I crept along the wall, my movements silent, until I came up next to her.

"Call in Nab and Vaati." She whispered. "We're not entirely sure if this place is empty or not."

I obeyed, slithering along the wall to the other side where the others were stationed. I peered past the wall and pulled out my talkie.

"Nab, you and Vaati come along to help flush out this place."

"Right-o, Blondie." She replied on the other end.

With a grin, I slunk back to my place near Impa and we both ducked into the motel room.

The place was pitch-black at the moment, but we couldn't turn on the lights in case there were still people here. Instead, to provide us with a little light, Impa let the moonlight stream in by pulling up as many curtains as possible.

Slowly, my eye adjusted to the darkness and I could see where we stood a little better. It was a big room that had one been several motel rooms, whose walls had been crudely knocked down. Along one wall, I could tell there were a bunch of shabby computers and cheap weapons; machetes, knives and even some small handguns. Along another wall, I could faintly see a huge map of Hyrule and a couple of mismatched chairs. A dingy fridge and microwave sat in the corner; probably where they kept and made all their food.

A few doors were scattered along the walls. As Nabooru and Vaati snuck up behind us, we each chose a door to check. I moved to the one lonely door that sat among the computers at the back wall.

I threw the door open, prudently stepping into the darkness. The door swung closed behind me with a soft click. Next, I pulled out the little hand-held lantern from my pouch and clicked it on.

The room was small, probably no bigger than five-by-five. There was a mop standing in one corner, and a few buckets sitting at its base. There's a little, threadbare, dirt-stained carpet covering most of the cement floor. I nudged it with the toe of my boot, disappointed that I hadn't stumbled onto a Seeker map that outlined the location of the Master Sword—the one artefact no archeologist could find—or something.

As I turned to leave, the floor creaked below me. I paused. Cement doesn't creak.

I tested the floor again with my foot, feeling around the floor until the sound persisted.

_Creak_

I glanced down at my foot and smiled. Under the carpet, of course.

I knelt down and pulled back the little rug to reveal a wooden trap door. The rug was tied to one end of the door, making it so that the carpet would be pulled over it when closed. I had to admit; it was a pretty ingenious design.

With a small huff, I pulled up the big wooden door. The door revealed a ladder, leading into foreboding darkness. Slowly and carefully, I angled myself into the hole, making sure I didn't lose my footing. I didn't know how far down this hole went—if I fell, that could be the end.

Forcing the negative thoughts from my head, I submerged myself into the pitch blackness below.

I climbed down the ladder a few feet before my feet came into contact with solid ground again. I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled my flashlight off of my belt, where it had stayed faithfully like a good little trooper my entire descent down.

I flashed the light around. I was in an unfinished basement; complete with cement walls, open insulation, exposed wooden beams, and a freezing temperature. More closed doors dotted along the east wall, and judging by the soft snoring I heard radiating from the general area, it was a safe bet that they were bedrooms. At the very end of the room, I saw something glint off of my lantern light. I had to be careful if I wanted to get to it.

Slowly and cautiously, I sidled along the wall closest to me—the one without the doors—until the thing that was glinting came into view.

It was a sword sheath sitting in an open cardboard box. It was narrow and encased in a thin layer of metal, etched with tiny designs that were almost gone do to age. I knew immediately what it was.

The sheath, the very one Hero carried his legendary sword—which was never found—in. If I remembered right, it was displayed in a hotel and not a museum. That's probably why we hadn't been contacted about it's disappearance.

I rolled my eyes. Even if the thing wasn't in a museum, how the heck did these morons manage to get away with stealing it? I mean, really? They just left the priceless artifact sitting in a box in the hallway!

Suddenly, I felt something tickle my cheek. A breeze? No. Someone's breath.

Before I could be grabbed from behind, I dodged and rolled out of the way, kicking the person squarely in the chest. I felt them stumble back and I took this as a chance to bolt for the ladder.

I smacked into someone else, who grabbed me by my wrists roughly and spun me around like a ragdoll.

"Looks like we've found ourselves a little spy." The heavy, raspy voice of a cruel male said in my ear.

The lights flicked on, making me shield my eyes from the bright rays.

"Such a tiny little thing," Another brutish voice hissed. "That little bitch kicked me."

The person holding me laughed, a heartless sound. "That's just how I like my women. Feisty."

The other one made a sneering sound. "You want this scrawny bitch?" He asked dubiously.

"If she wants it," The person holding me leered.

I wrinkled my nose. _Yucko_. I'd sooner stick a fork in my eye and twist it, thank you very much.

"Think she's alone?" A third voice asked. This one was female, but didn't sound any more compassionate as the others.

"No one else came down, now did they?" The sneering guy asked.

"That doesn't mean shit," Another voice added. "Her buddies could be upstairs."

I felt someone grab my chin and jerk my face upward. I opened my eyes to meet with merciless grey eyes. The eyes of a Seeker.

"Are you alone?" The woman demanded, squeezing my chin harder than necessary.

I glared, then nodded my head. She dropped my chin as if disgusted, and walked away.

The man behind me loosened his grip on my arms, just barely.

I smiled. That was all I needed.

I tore myself from his grasp and spun around, knocking the big man's feet out from under him, then kneeing him in the face for good measure. I then whirled around to the other three and slammed my foot into the sneering guy's face as he tried to charge at me. Crimson blood trickled out of his nose.

"You bitch!" The woman and the sneering guy growled in unison, as he wiped the blood off of his face. The two of them charged at me at the same time, eyes flashing with blood thirst.

I was able to kick the sneering guy hard enough to send him reeling, but the woman got a good punch between my shoulder blades. I fell to the ground, eyes watering from the pain. I twisted around on the floor and sent a swift kick to the woman's legs, causing her to lose her footing and tumble to the ground.

I jumped back to my feet, and dodged the last guy as he dove for my wrist. I spun around and kicked him squarely in the back, and he smacked against a nearby cement wall. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

The other three jumped to their feet, growling. The big man charged at me, eyes fierce like a bull. I dove out of the way just in time, by I was wheezing with exhaustion. I looked up at the ladder at the other end of the room hoping someone had heard the struggles.

Nothing.

Now the woman pitched at me. I swiftly dodged her swipes and sent a staggering punch square to her face. Her eyes rolled backward and she crumpled to the ground in a heap.

"Nalia!" The sneering man barked, staring the woman's unconscious form. His murderous gaze flicked back to me. "You bitch! You'll pay for that!"

Next to him, the big man flexed his massive muscles and grinned sadistically at me, evidently agreeing.

I panted, so tired. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take.

"Tsk, Tsk." A new voice that I knew all too well said from behind me, though I didn't dare take my eyes off of the immediate threat. "Four against one isn't particularly fair, now is it?"

"Who the hell are you?" The sneering man demanded, looking at something over my shoulder. "Are you with this little bitch?"

Even in my gasping state, I knew that the name 'bitch' was getting a little old.

"Good Goddesses man," Not-Astley's voice gasped. "Could you get a little more creative with your nicknames?"

The big man growled. "Answer the question, scrawny!"

Not-Astley's disembodied voice chuckled. "Famous last words." He said amusedly.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Stand back, Sheiky. I'll take of these fine gentlemen while you catch your breath."

Normally, I'd protest. But at the moment, all I could think about was the pain that radiated between my shoulders. I stepped back and leaned heavily against a wall, my back aching from Nalia's punch. _Ugh. Now I won't be able to wear scoop-backed tank-tops for a good week or so._

"You think you can take us, you scrawny little punk?" The big man said with a guffaw.

Not-Astley shrugged and pointed back at me with his thumb. "Well, Sheiky managed to take two of you out." There was a laugh in his voice. "I think I can manage."

I wasn't sure whether I should be offended by that comment or not. Rather, I was too busy trying to figure out why Not-Astley was helping me. Doesn't he realize I'm his enemy?

I suppose I'll let him take these guys _then _ask him.

"You've got a death wish boy," The sneering man said, readying himself for attack. "You and your scrawny girlfriend there are toast."

Not-Astley shrugged. "We'll see."

"You cocky little bastard!" The sneering guy yelled, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

Neither of them got the chance to charge at him, because before either of them could move, a near-blinding green light filled the room. I squeezed my eyes shut and ducked my head to shield them from the light. When I raised my head again, I was face-to-face with Not-Astley.

I squeaked again and jumped away from him.

He chuckled. "That's cute," He said, the corners of his eyes crinkling up again. "When you do that."

I blinked once, then peered past him. The other two Seekers laid, passed out on the cold cement floor.

I looked back at Not-Astley. "You—what the heck did you _do_ to them?"

Not-Astley gave a small shrug. "Just what was coming to them."

I looked back to the Seekers. _They're still breathing, right? I don't see any blood..._

"No, they're not dead." Not-Astley said with a sigh. "I just hit them from behind while they were distracted." One of his eyebrows disappeared under his cowl. "Whatever you may think of me, I am not a murderer unless I have to be."

I kicked the floor, for some reason actually sorry for jumping to conclusions. I shook my head to remove the sympathetic thoughts from my brain.

"You…" I said, meeting his gaze intensely. "Why did you help me?"

Not-Astley shrugged again. "You looked like you needed it." He said, casually crossing his arms over his chest.

I shook my head, eyeing the boy suspiciously. "I'm your enemy." I said plainly. "If you were smart, you would've let me die."

The crinkles near his eyes returned. "Maybe I'm just not smart, then." He started to turn away.

"Wait!" I yelled.

Not-Astley stopped, his blue eyes resting on me.

"Are you the Hero?" I blurted, and immediately regretted it. _Like he was going to tell me that!_

He winked. "Only if you're the Princess."

The green light returned and a faint breeze ruffled my bangs. When it was over, Not-Astley and the sheath were gone.

"Shit." I cursed, regarding the now-empty cardboard box as if it were filled with live rats.

_He got away again. _

* * *

I stood in a temple, or what I assumed one would look like, anyway. There were several large pillars holding up the ceiling, and a ruby red carpet that led to an altar, three shimmering stones hovering above it. Behind the altar, at the top of a few marble stairs, there appeared to be a large, stone door. The walls and floors were all made of smooth marble, shined to perfection. Golden sunlight flooded in through little windows that stood so high on the wall that I couldn't see out of them. The place radiated familiarity, though I couldn't quite place why.

I took a step, and my foot came into contact with the cold marble floor. I glanced down at myself; I was barefoot and still clad in my grubby, oversized t-shirt and shorts that I'd worn to bed.

_Where am I?_ I wondered, hugging myself.

I took some more cautious steps toward the altar, and stopped to glance around. As far as I could tell, I was alone. I kept making my way to the stairs behind the altar, the only noise in the entire room being the sound of my bare feet slapping against the marble.

I approached the three hovering stones, and ran my finger across each of their surfaces. Each stone bobbed in the air as I touched them, but didn't fall. They were smooth to the touch, and looked as fragile as glass.

"I knew it was you." A familiar voice murmured in my ear.

I jumped, resulting in the last stone I was poking to bob rather bouncily. I spun around, coming cheek-to-chest to just below someone's bare collarbone. Tingles shot up my cheek and vibrated throughout my entire body. I peeled my cheek off of his chest and stepped back, face ablaze.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, counting each fibre of the red carpet.

"Oh, you know," There was a smile in his voice. "Just surfing."

I looked up finally, trying my hardest not to stare… but damn. The boy has the kind of body that makes sculpted statues jealous. Walking around uncovered like that should be considered illegal, considering what it does to me.

"What are you wearing?" I demanded.

He glanced down at himself. "Huh. Well, it appears I'm in my pajamas."

I stared at his flannel pant leg. "Why?"

"Probably the same reason you are." He said.

I felt my cheeks flare up when the weight of the comment sunk in. I was in my ratty pajamas. In front of Link McCormick. Goddesses kill me now.

"Where is this?" I asked in a vain attempt to distract myself from my current situation.

Link shrugged his bare, sinewy shoulders and met my eyes with a smile. "No idea. I'm pretty sure this is a dream."

I looked around. It really would explain what the hell I was doing standing in a temple in my pajamas and with a half-naked guy. "Probably." I admitted. "Yeah, I must be dreaming."

He sent me a funny look. "Huh. I thought this was _my_ dream."

I blinked once and felt the gears turning in my head. "No, it—maybe it is, I don't know." I sighed and settled onto the stairs. "I'm really confused right now."

Link sat next to me. "Me too." His face became thoughtful. "Perhaps this dream is a sign that I'm obsessed with you, or maybe I'm a figment of _your_ imagination. Maybe this isn't even my dream." he shrugged again.

I smiled wryly. "You're making my head hurt."

"Sorry." His soft chuckle made a shiver run up my spine. And not the foreboding, danger-alert kind of tingle either.

He seemed to notice the shiver. "Cold?"

Blushing, I shook my head. The air of temple wasn't cold in slightest. In fact, since we were sitting under one of the windows, the sunlight made it pleasantly warm.

"Does this place feel familiar to you too?" I asked, changing the subject.

Slowly, he nodded. "A little. I have no idea why, though." Thoughtfully, he ran his fingers over the polished marble stairs. "It's kind of like the feeling I got when I saw you on my first day at Ordon."

I froze. He'd felt that too? I thought I'd just been trying to find something familiar about the sexy new kid so I'd have a reason to talk to him.

"What do you mean?" I managed.

Link's clear blue eyes focused solely on mine. "On my first day, when I saw you… I don't know, it _triggered _something in me. Some feeling of recognition or something. I'm not sure how to explain it, Harkinian." He hesitated—a very uncharacteristic thing for him to do—then reached up to catch my chin between his thumb and forefingers.

I let him, which was a very uncharacteristic thing for _me_ to do.

"At first I dismissed it," he admitted in a hushed voice. "But, when we touched that day at the shop…"

My breath caught. "You felt the weird tingles too?" I asked in a whisper.

He nodded very faintly, not releasing my chin still. "I still do."

I looked at him. "I don't understand. Why are you telling me this now?"

Link smiled very softly. "I figure since this is one of our dreams, so it won't matter if I do."

For some odd reason, this made sense to me.

"I… see…" I whispered.

For a moment, we just peered into each other's eyes. His were so pretty; deep blue—a dozen shades darker than my own—and framed with long eyelashes. I could see myself reflected in their depths. That was when I realized his were drawing closer to mine; that he was leaning in.

I didn't think, I just responded, letting my eyes flutter closed as I bent my head to meet his.

_Beep… Beep… Beep…_

My eyes snapped open and I found myself staring into ice-blue eyes. Feline eyes.

Peanut sat up and stretched, pawing at my nose and giving me a happy meow.

"Blondie! You awake yet?" Nabooru snapped from the other side of my bedroom door. "It's almost seven!"

I sat up in bed and slapped the snooze button on my alarm. _Good Goddess. _I thought, as all the blood in my body was continually rushing to my face. _What is up with me?_

* * *

I spun the dial on my locker's lock and yanked the door open, dumping my History books haphazardly into the metal box. I pulled out my English books and slammed the door closed again, clicking the lock back into place.

The school halls were packed with chatting students, which only made my head hurt. The sickly sweet scents of perfume and cologne weren't helping much either. I kept thinking about that dumb and very confusing dream I had. What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I let him almost kiss me? Don't tell me I've morphed into another brainless member of Link's fanclub.

My thoughts were brought to a sudden, irking stop, when I slammed into someone.

Once again, I lost my grip on my binder and my romance novel. They both fell to the ground, the binder scattering loose pages all over someone's feet.

"Sorry." I apologized, sweeping to the ground to pick up the pages. _I've really got to stop spacing out in the halls. _

A slender, tanned hand picked up my novel before I could.

"Hey—!" I glared up at the guilty party.

Link McCormick smiled that irresistible smile of his, and held out the novel as he crouched in front of me. "This is becoming a habit of yours, I think."

The memories of the almost-kiss from my dream came rushing back, and I accidently looked at his mouth. I quickly adverted my eyes, red blooming across my cheeks.

I snatched the book from his hand before he could read the back. "Thanks." I mumbled, going back to gathering the loose pages.

Link sighed. "Ah, the Ice Princess act is back, I see."

I shoved the pages into my binder and pulled myself back to my feet. "Who's acting?" I retorted, as he stood to his full height as well. I started to step around him, but he grabbed my elbow and tugged me back.

"Princess, come on. Don't take everything so seriously. I actually have something I want to ask you."

I crossed my arms and met his focus. "Fine." I sniffed.

He grinned, and leaned forward. "Thanks."

I leaned away from him. _Gods, doesn't he know the meaning of the term 'personal space'? He clearly hadn't in my dream. _

Oh. Thinking about that wasn't smart, since it sent another wave of crimson across my face.

"Would you like me to come by and finish the truck?"

I blinked. I wasn't expecting that. "Oh… yeah sure. As long as you let your family know where you are this time."

"Okay," he nodded. "I'll drive you home today."

Before I could even form a protest in my head, let alone _say _it, he loped around me and melted into the crowd of students.

I just stood there a moment, blank-faced.

"What the hell?" I asked myself out loud.

* * *

**Okay, even I'll admit, putting that almost-kiss was a huge tease (I think I'm slightly sadistic!), so um, sorry 'bout that, to all of you and to Zellie… .**

**Anyway, I'm sorry for the delay of this chapter. I had lots of end-of-the year projects for school in the last little while, so I haven't had much time to work on it! Sorry! **

**Please review! **


	6. Bulletproof

**Wow, guys. I am so, so sorry for the wait for this chapter. The most inconvenient things happened that caused this heinous delay. There'll be a proper explanation for this at the end of the chappy for those who care enough to read it. If not, then feel free just to skip it. :)**

**For now, just enjoy teh words! **

* * *

**THIEF**

**Chapter six—Bulletproof**

* * *

As the final bell rang, I briefly considered attempting to sneak onto the school bus. Normally, I'd do anything to stay _off_ of the bus—what with my bus being the single most crowded bus in the school—but right now, I just don't want to spend any more unnecessary time alone with Link. My hopes, however, are dashed when I see him waiting for me at the front entrance of the school, leaning up against the brick wall which stood adjacent to the doors. As quickly as I could, I discreetly hid myself behind the tall guy in front of me.

I wondered for a moment if I could get away with sneaking out the back doors of the school. The plan didn't seem doable, considering that the stream of students were filing out the doors at an alarming rate. Someone as small as me didn't have a fighting chance going against the current.

Warily, I snuck peek out the glass doors to Link. He lifted a hand in greeting and nodded at me through the glass doors of school, a smug smile tugging along his features.

_Crap. _I thought, sucking in my cheeks. _I'm caught. _

Well, there goes that plan.

Instead allowing my shoulders to sink in defeat, as I wanted to, I lifted my chin and mustered the remainders of my dignity—though, admittedly, dignity is hard to achieve when you're squashed between several, much larger students in a stampede for the door.

Finally, I de-wedged myself from the throng of students, just as he pushed himself off of the wall and came up next to me. I decided to ignore him and keep walking.

"Well, hello to you too, Princess." He hummed next to me.

I gave him a sidelong glance and frowned. "Gods, don't you _ever _have homework?" I exclaimed, gesturing to his non-existent backpack.

He laughed as if I had made a terribly funny joke. To him, I probably had.

_Right. Stupid question. _I thought, adjusting my backpack straps._ Even if he did have homework, he wouldn't do it. _

"Nevermind." I muttered, marching past him to where his truck stood.

"The Ice Princess makes her triumphant return yet again." He mused, easily catching up with me.

"How many nicknames is that now?" I asked, raising a brow at him. "Three? Four?"

"Well, four technically, but two of them were continuations of others."

I grunted. "Right. Because as we all know, you couldn't possibly just call me by my first name."

He sounded appalled. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Yeah, how _else_ on Farore's green earth would you annoy me?"

"Exactly." He agreed evenly.

I rolled my eyes as we approached the truck. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't _want _you to tease me?" I asked, wrapping hand around the door handle of his truck.

"Oh, just admit it. You like my teasing."

"Nope." I shook my head. "I really don't."

"Really?" He asked, sounding sceptical as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Really, really." I responded, yanking open my own door and slipping in.

* * *

As we pull into my house's driveway, we're greeted by the unfavorable image of Nabooru's car in the driveway. Don't get me wrong; I love Nab, but she seriously hates men—which coincidentally, I happen to be in the company with.

"Great." I muttered out loud without thinking.

"Hmm?" Link asked, pulling the truck to a stop behind Nab's car.

"Nothing," I sighed airily. "It's just, my sister's not a big fan of boys." _Minor understatement…_

I unclicked my seatbelt.

"She won't take too kindly to me." He clarified, and I nodded in response.

"Well," I grunted, throwing open the truck door. "Let's get through this with as little pain as possible." Without pausing to wait for him, I hopped out and shut the door, nervously nipping at my bottom lip.

"Would you like me to use my gift?" He asked, coming up beside me.

I shook my head violently. "No! Absolutely not!" I shrieked, pushing him against the truck without thinking. "If you try to charm her, she'll only get more pissed afterward!"

He held up his hand. "Alright, relax Princess. I won't charm her."

"You swear?" I asked, giving him a pointed look.

"Cross my heart and hope to die." He promised, putting a hand to his heart.

I grunted, face flushing when I realized I'd trapped him against his own vehicle. "Fine, let's get this over with." I dropped my arms from his shoulders, and stepped away, trying—and failing—to play it off.

I led him up our rickety porch steps, and twisted open the front door. As I stepped into the door, I yelled, "Nab, I'm home!"

Link stepped in after me and closed the door, glancing around my foyer in approval.

"Nice." He muttered, sending me a slight smile. "So this is what the inside looks like."

I glanced around my home, hardly seeing what would be considered 'nice'. My house was small and our furniture was rather shabby, there wasn't anything impressive about it in the least.

"Is that…" He squinted at the kitchen doorframe. "Is that your height as you grew up?"

I slipped off my flip-flops at the door and shrugged. "Yeah. Pretty cliché, huh?"

Link shook his head. "Not at all." He walked over to the chipped, white-painted doorframe and slid his finger to the lowest notch. "How old were you for this one?"

I walked over to the frame and smoothed my finger over the permanent-marker spot. "About five, I think." I said, smiling fondly. "I've hardly grown since then."

He chuckled, then moved his finger to the highest notch, which was just below where my head currently hit. "What about here?"

"Eleven." I confirmed, then blushed. "I haven't grown much at all in the past six years."

"You were tall for eleven." He offered.

"I was practically finished growing." I admitted.

"If it's any consolation, I like you the size you are." He said, nodding. "You're pocket-sized."

"Thanks." I said sarcastically, my cheeks turning pink. "I'm glad I can be packed away in the convenience of a pocket."

He laughed again, and his chest brushed against my back. Suddenly very aware of our closeness, I shivered.

"Cold?" He murmured, reminding me of the dream—which in turn, caused me to become the shade of a tomato.

Just like the dream, I wordlessly shook my head.

He placed his hand over mine on the doorframe, demonstrating the vast differences between us; his hand was larger and tanned, mine was smaller and winter-white.

"Blondie?" I heard Nabooru call from the top of the stairs.

I jumped away from Link, my face blazing.

"Are these yours or mine? I found them in the bathroom." Nabooru appeared at the base of the stairs, holding a laundry basket and a pair of my underwear between her thumb and forefinger.

I felt my jaw drop open.

I'm...embarrassed? Um, no. Embarrassed is when you let out an involuntary belch in the middle of a dead-silent classroom during an intense math test.

Humiliated? I wish. Humiliated is when you experiment with bronzer and end up coming out like a walking creamsicle and have to stay like that until it fades.

Mortified? Yeah. That sounds about right. I'm mortified because so-called "sister" is dangling my underwear out of a laundry basket and asking me whether it's mine or hers, meanwhile the guy every girl in school would like to hit the sack with was standing right behind me. My underwear also happens to be pink and says 'Tuesday' across the butt. Today is Tuesday.

As fast as my short legs will take me—which happens to be pretty damn fast, I might proudly add—I snatched the pink Tuesday undies from Nab and shoved them deep into the bottom of the laundry bin.

Nab blinked at me as if I were a few bolts loose, then peered past me to my 'company'—which is a term I use very loosely. Her lips tugged down in disapproval and she sent me a condescending glare that could make a puppy cry.

"Why is _he _here?" She seethed, not bothering to lower her voice as she pointed to the boy standing at the kitchen door.

"To fix the truck." I hastily explained. "We talked about this, remember?"

She dropped the laundry bin on the ground with a huff. I flinched as the basket made a _thump _sound. "You didn't tell me it was _him!" _

I bit my lip. I hadn't told her, but only because I knew she'd try to talk me out of it. "Find a less-hot, female mechanic!" She'd tell me, just as I could tell she was dying to at the moment.

I gave her a look that very clearly meant '_Shut up!'._ "Why does it matter?" I asked between clenched teeth.

Either she didn't get the message, or she chose to ignore it. "Well, he'll try to—!"

With a gasp, I stumbled to slap a hand over her mouth. Nab glared at me, but didn't fight my hand.

"Link," I said breathlessly, looking back at him over my shoulder. "You can, um, go to the garage now."

He raised both golden brows at me. "Really? Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed as Nab started to squirm under my hand. "Go! Now!"

He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, alright then."

As soon as he'd disappeared into the garage, Nab tore my hand off of her thick lips. "Jeeze. There's no need for that, Blondie."

"Apparently, there is!" I seethed. "I mean, really? Couldn't you have waited until he was out of earshot before chewing me out? And don't even get me started with the panties!"

Nabooru swept to the floor to pick up the laundry basket. "Sorry, but I don't think you should surround yourself with boys like that. I've met his type, Blondie, and lemme tell ya: he's nothin' but trouble."

I rolled my eyes. "He's fixing my truck, not teaching me mouth-to-mouth. The chances of him putting the moves on me are slim to none." I was conveniently leaving out the fact that he's _already_ put the moves on me several times. "Not to mention that I'm too smart to fall for that kind of stuff." I added as an afterthought.

Nab fixed me with a look. "I thought I was too, Blondie." She sighed, tucking the basket under one of her arms. "Then I met James, and Raven and Terry and—"

"That won't happen to me, Nab." I said. "I swear I'll be careful."

"I just worry about ya, Zel." She said quietly. "A broken heart isn't something I want you to have to go through."

I sighed. "Nab…"

"Plus, ya'll seemed pretty cozy there before I interrupted." She added, her rouge brow furrowing in concern.

I stared at her a moment, then ever-so-slowly, blush crept up my cheeks and I looked away. "Yeah, um, the keyword there being 'seemed'." I laced my fingers in front of me. "Besides, didn't you say you'd be all over him if you were my age? This conversation seems rather hypocritical, if you ask me."

Nabooru scowled at me, and I gave her an innocent look.

"Yeah, well that was before he started putt'n the moves on my little sister." She grumbled, brushing past me to get to the laundry room.

"Nab?" I called after her, and she stopped to glance at me. "Thanks for caring." I said with a small smile.

She returned the smile. "That's what families are for, Zel." She frowned. "Man, that was sappy, wasn't it?"

I laughed. "Incredibly."

With a humorous tilt to her broad lips, Nabooru turned and disappeared into the laundry room.

I sighed lightly, and dumped my backpack onto the couch. Once again, I kept shooting glances at the garage door. I couldn't help myself. My eyes to the door were like a magnet to metal; attracted.

I bit my lip and forced my focus on my backpack, as I started roughly yanking out my homework. I hadn't even finished the first question of my History homework before my gaze started to wander back to the door. I wondered if everything was alright with the truck—

Now I was just making excuses. It was pathetic.

I unzipped my backpack and retrieved more homework. _Distraction time!_

* * *

Hours later, Nab had fallen asleep on the couch. I was seated in an armchair across from her sleeping form, quietly reading one of my books.

There was a knock on the garage door, causing me to start. I stood up, laid my novel flat on the coffee table and made my way to the garage door. I pulled open the door to find Link standing there with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans.

"Oh!" I gasped, then covered my mouth, casting a glance behind me to check if I had woke Nab up. Thankfully, she sleeps like a rock. "Sorry." I said in a hushed voice. "I sort of forgot you were here."

He peered around me, probably to see why I was whispering. When he met my gaze again, he was wearing a smug smile. "Princess, there's something I want to show you."

I followed him into the garage where he promptly handed me my truck keys. I raised an eyebrow, but he only nodded encouragingly. I slid into the driver's seat and turned on the ignition. The motor started, and continued to hum steadily.

"That's a beautiful sound." I told him, staring up at him as if he were one of the Goddesses. "I can't believe you did this on your own."

He leaned over to rest his forehead on his arm, which was casually propped against the frame of the door. "I'll try not to take that as an insult."

I cut the engine and leaned back against the seat. "It wasn't supposed to be one." I told him. "Seriously, thanks. You really have no idea what a big favor you're doing for me."

He raised and dropped his shoulders in a shrug, keeping within that same position. "It's not a big deal, Princess."

"Yes it is." I said firmly. "And I _will_ pay you back one day."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes." I said, crossing my arms and sinking lower into the creaky driver's seat.

He cocked his head to the side and pressed his lips together with his brow furrowed. The expression was unfairly cute, but I refused to be charmed by it.

"You really wanna pay me back?" He asked, amusement creeping its way into his expression.

"Um, yeah." My voice trailed off at the end; unsure now.

He reached down with his free hand and tilted my chin upward with a featherlight touch. "Then answer me this," He said, dropping his hand. "Was there more to that accident at the Diner?"

I opened my mouth, a lie at the tip of my tongue, but he pressed two fingers to my lips.

"And don't lie to me again."

I felt my eyes widen. "I-I…what do you mean?" I managed to stammer very unconvincingly.

He raised both eyebrows and sent me a no-nonsense look. "I think you know perfectly well what I mean."

I opened my mouth again, but no words came out. What could I say? He's already caught me in a lie once before. Who's to say he won't again?

I cleared my throat. "I'll tell you that once you tell me how you were able to pull me out of the way in time."

He pulled back slightly, blinking those otherworldly eyes of his as his brow knit together. "Yeah, I suppose you're right, Harkinian." He mumbled, mostly to himself.

I pressed my lips together, waiting.

He sighed and leaned a little lower, dipping his head down so that we were the same height. "Look, Princess, I'm concerned about this 'accident'. You were right, it _did _seem like the driver was trying to hit you. I can't help but wonder if somebody's trying to hurt—"

"It's fixed now, is it?" Nab's voice suddenly said from the kitchen door.

Link flinched and stepped away from me.

I blinked and slid out of the truck to find her stepping into the garage, her red hair sticking up on all ends. Her arms were crossed and her lips were tight as she regarded us.

"Um, yeah." I said, rocking back on my heels.

She uncrossed her arms, but made no move to leave.

I wanted Link to finish what he going to say, but I had the strangest feeling he wouldn't with Nab here. "Uh, okay. I'll go get your money." I said, brushing past him. "How much do I owe, again?"

"Seventy." He answered, running a hand through his hair.

"Is a cheque okay?" I asked as I twisted the handle of the door.

"It's fine."

I nodded, but paused briefly. _Is it just me or is it really stifling in the garage all of the sudden?_ I wondered, glancing at each of my guests. _Oh, whatever. _

I shrugged it off and left into the kitchen.

I pulled out my checkbook from the junkdrawer—which was a drawer Nab had started to throw any crap that cluttered our counters into when we had company—and filled it out. I tore the paper from the book and folded it in half, then headed for the garage door.

"Here," I said as I shoved through the garage door, not looking up until I closed the door. When I did, I was greeted by my sister gripping the front of the most popular guy in school's shirt, glaring up at him.

Nab's golden eyes went wide when she saw me, and she shoved him away. "Zel! That was quick!" She stumbled over her words.

"Uh, yeah." I eyed them both suspiciously. It seems like everyone's been taking crazy pills lately.

Without explaining what exactly _that _was all about, Link walked up to me and took the cheque between his middle and forefingers. "Thanks. I'll be on my way."

I opened my mouth to ask, but he quickly turned his back and retreated out of the garage, casually tossing over his shoulder, "See you in History."

As soon as the image of his truck faded from sight, I turned on my unofficial sister, teeth bared.

"What the hell was that?" I exclaimed, gesturing wildly to the open garage door. "Why were you strangling him? Are you insane?"

She rolled her eyes and smoothed her glossy red hair. "I wasn't strangling him. I did, however, promise I would if he ever did anything to hurt you."

I groaned. "Nab, I told you! We. Are. Not. Dating. What can I do to convince you of this?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe don't bring him to yer house. Maybe don't allow ya'self into kissing distance _twice in the same flipping night!" _

I looked away. "…That didn't mean anything." I muttered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

"Bull crappie!" She jabbed a finger at me. "He was going to kiss ya and you know it!"

I swatted her hand away. "He's just a flirt. It wasn't serious."

"Exactly why ya should keep your distance!" She threw her hands in the air in exasperation.

"Hello!" I waved my hands in front of her face. "It doesn't even matter anymore! The truck is fixed so I'll probably never talk to him again! Okay?"

At this she paused, pensive. "It always seems that way, don't it?" She insisted, "But it never is. He'll find a new excuse to talk to you. And then another. And another. And then, _bam! _Ya find yourself in his bed."

My frustration was growing to no end throughout this conversation and I could literally _feel _my temper snap like a brittle twig at that last comment. "I won't let that happen, okay? I'm not you." The last sentence kind of just… slipped out before I could stop it.

When the realization of what I'd just said sunk in, I clamped both hands over my mouth, as if I could stuff the words back down my throat—back where they belong. But the damage was already done.

"Nab…" I whispered, looking up in time to see her face darken with anger. "I…I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean it like that…"

She crossed her arms over her ample chest and looked away. "That's exactly how you meant it, Zelda." She murmured, backing up. "And you know it."

"No I—!" I began, but she held up a yielding hand.

"Whatever."

I flinched. With Nab, 'whatever' was the g-rated equivalent to saying 'eff you'.

"Nab…?" I tried again, softly.

She sighed deeply, and met my blue gaze with her own golden one. "Look, just forget about it, okay? If that's what you think of me, then that's what you think of me."

"I don't—!"

She shook her head sadly. "Whatever." She repeated, softly this time. "I'm, uh… I'll be upstairs if ya need me."

Without another word, she whirled around and loped back inside, trying not to slam the door on the way out.

I sighed, and sunk to the cold, garage floor; my head buried in my hands.

_Way to go, Zel. _I thought, smiling ruefully. _Not only does the company you've worked for your entire life no longer trust you, but your hormones are running wild and the guy causing them to do so knows there's something up with you. Not only that, but you've also managed to be a crappy sister and friend to one of only people you've ever considered family. Really, you deserve a metal for being such a colossal failure. Way. To. Go. _

The worst part of it all was that there was virtually nobody I could talk to about this. My friends would think I'm bonkers for even suggesting that I was the Princess of Destiny, Impa would whisk me away to HTPA headquarters if she knew someone was suspicious of me, and Nab was now pissed at me and would likely do the same for the sake of my safety.

I pulled both my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms firmly around them, trying to think of a time when I felt more alone.

* * *

"Maybe, Sheik, maybe you should just… stay back in the car." Impa suggested as we pulled up into the parking lot of Faron Historical Museum.

I looked up from my fiddling hands in shock. "What?"

"Perhaps Mistress Impa is right, Sheik?" Ghirahim said next to me. "After all, every time you've helped us lately, the Thief has gotten away."

I clenched my teeth, but before I could snap a defense for me, Impa had turned around to glare at Ghirahim.

"You know that's not the reason, Ghirahim." She said sharply. "We need someone on lookout in the parking lot. I just thought with everything that's been going on for Sheik, maybe she'd like to relax a bit."

I sunk deeper into my seat. _As if that's any better._

"You don't have to." Impa rushed on to say. "I only thought—"

I stared down at my hands, curling and uncurling my fingers. "No. It's fine. I'll stay." I said, my voice void of any emotion._ It's clear no one wants me there, anyway._

Slowly, Impa nodded, her mouth tugged down in concern. "Okay, dear." She reached back from her place at the driver's seat and patted my hand. "Let us know if you see anything… suspicious, okay?"

I nodded sullenly. "Yeah." I answered with just as much enthusiasm.

I sat there numbly as everyone else exited our black van, leaving me behind. Out the windshield, I could clearly see Impa, watching me with regret churning in her ruby gaze—as if she had changed her mind and wanted to call me over after all. I knew I wanted her to. But she didn't. Instead, she sent me a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes, and kept on walking with the others. Nabooru didn't look back at me once.

_She's still pissed._

I sank lower into my seat, almost on my back as I fought off the sudden urge to cry.

Everything was going wrong at once. The somewhat stable life I'd managed to build for myself over the past decade was all crumbling in a matter of a few weeks.

And it all started with that Thief.

Biting my lip, I forced myself to sit up straight again. When had I become such a freaking crybaby? Right now, I was Sheik, employee of HTPA. Sheik, a trained fighter for over ten years. Sheik, the most precious HTPA member.

And yet, I only felt like Zelda—the small, sarcastic, hopeless romantic that no one ever glanced twice at.

"Damn." I muttered, swiping away the stupid tears as they fell off my lashes.

"Damn indeed." A voice snapped next to me, muffled slightly by the thick glass of the van.

I froze, and slowly turning my gaze to the source of the voice.

It was a big burly man, with a scruffy beard and long, lank hair to match standing outside the van. He wore all dark clothes and the cold, merciless stare I would recognize anywhere.

_A Seeker._

The Seeker stood outside my window, the handgun that was fitted into his beefy hand pointed at my head. Even if the window was able to save me for the first shot, I would still be dead with another pull of the trigger.

"Alright," The Seeker said, nodding at me. "Out of the van. Now."

Taking in a shuddery breath, I unclipped my seatbelt. I was screwed. I was so, _so_ screwed. I wasn't carrying a gun to counteract the Seeker's at the moment, and I couldn't try to go for the one Impa always leaves in the glove box without risking getting my head blown off.

_I'm so dead. _

"I said out, little missy." The man snarled when I didn't move fast enough.

I shoved open the door, biting my lip under my cowl. _What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?_ I chanted in my head, wracking my brain for an answer to this predicament.

"On the ground, hands on your head." The Seeker ordered, gesturing to the pavement with his gun. "Go on."

I obeyed, subtly trying to inch my hand into my pocket so I could turn on my walkie-talkie, and prayed to all three goddesses _someone_ hears this and comes to my rescue.

The Seeker pressed the gun to my forehead. "Hand out of your pocket and on your head." He commanded.

I obliged, letting my hand move uselessly atop my head.

"Now," The Seeker began. "You are an agent of the Hylian Triforce Protection Agency, aren't you?"

I didn't answer, and kept my steely gaze forward.

"Answer me, you scum." The man growled, tapping my head with the barrel of his gun.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Then, very slowly, I nodded.

"Good." There was a tinge of satisfaction in his tone. "Now, tell me; why is HTPA here, hmm?" He slid the gun barrel to my temple and began tapping on the trigger.

A tear squeezed out of my closed eyes and slid down my cheeks. I was going to die, but there was no way I was going to talk.

"Answer the question, dammit!" The man said, jamming the barrel into the side of my head, probably leaving a bruise.

Still, I refused to answer his question. I had to distract him, enough to let his drop his guard so that I can either get away from him and his gun, better yet, go the more preferable route and get his _gun_ away from _him_. Or die trying.

Instead, I said, "What do you need to know that for?" My voice was surprisingly calm and level—even the man seemed surprised.

His flat, brown gaze shifted around. "That's none of your business!" He snapped.

"You work for someone, don't you?" I asked, meeting his gaze with unfaltering intensity. "A group. It isn't only you."

"What's it to you?" The man snapped.

"Nothing," I hummed, trying to sound nonchalant even though I was scared shitless. "I just wonder why they let you come get me all alone, without a lick of help."

"Don't you get it, missy? One pull of this trigger, and there goes your head, so get talking!" The Seeker growled, tapping the trigger again. "Don't think I'm afraid to kill you!"

"You must be expendable," I concluded. "I very well could've been armed and could've taken you down just as easily."

The man sputtered, the grip on his gun faltering momentarily. "Well, what about you?" He retorted. "Your group left you here all alone unarmed. You must be even more expendable."

I shook my head, wincing when the man gave the gun another rough shove into my temple. "No. I'm not at all expendable." I said. "In fact, I'm very precious."

He snorted, his grip on the gun relaxing. "Then why'd they leave you here all alone, unarmed?"

"How do you know I am?" I asked, sending him a knowing smile I hoped he could see in my eyes to make the bluff all the more believable.

The man stiffened, obviously not having thought of that. "I-I… I just do, okay?" He yelled.

I shifted slightly, still keeping the thin smile on my lips. "Hmm… I'm guessing the thought never really occurred to you?"

"Don't get smart with me, missy!" The Seeker whapped the side of my head with his gun.

Blinking, I glanced up at the straggly-haired Seeker. "I just wonder why you're here with me, instead of with everyone else. You know, where the _important_ action is." I stressed the word _important. _

"I-I… Why do you care?" He grunted.

"You must have the tendency to screw up." I said, nodding.

"You little—!"

"Or maybe you just can't get a hold on your temper long enough to be sneaky?" I mused, watching as the Seeker's face grew red with anger and disbelief.

With a grunt of exasperation, the man drew back the gun to hit me with it. Little did he know; that was exactly what I'd been waiting for. Taking the opportunity of no longer being in immediate danger, I quickly kicked the man's legs out from beneath him. His eyes went wide, and he sprawled on the pavement, the gun skidding from his reach.

I rolled myself onto my feet, and dove for the gun. The man, who was unfortunately smart enough to know what I was going for, grabbed my ankle as I soared past and yanked me back. I fell, catching myself with my hands before I knocked myself out cold on the pavement. A little bit behind me, the man shoved me aside and attempted to crawl past me to get to the gun. With a grunt, I kicked him hard in the ribs and he fell to his side, clutching the spot I'd kicked with a cough.

I took this moment of distraction to crawl past him and grab the gun. It was almost mine when I felt the man land a hard kick to my abdomen. I sputtered, but continued to reach for it with quivering fingers. The Seeker, in his desperation to keep the gun away from me, quickly kicked the gun away where neither of us could reach it.

_Works for me. _I thought, jumping to my feet.

The Seeker also scrambled to his feet and spat blood on the pavement. Yucko.

"I'll kill you, you HTPA scum!" He growled, then charged at me.

Just before he tried to tackle me, I jumped up and slammed a hard kick into his chest. He flew backward a few feet and sprawled on the parking lot, likely smacking his head on the way down. I walked over to where the man lay, and placed a foot on his chest, just to rub it in.

He stared up at me with glassy, hate-filled eyes. "Bitch." He spat.

I smirked, and even though he couldn't see it, he knew it was there. "I think this means I win." I said.

Lethargically, the Seeker smiled.

I frowned, and pressed my foot harder into his chest. "What?" I snapped.

He didn't answer, instead only barked out a laugh. And that's when I heard it:

The cocking of a gun.

My breath froze in my throat.

"Off of him!" A panicked, feminine voice snapped behind me. "Now!"

I took a deep breath and stepped off the man.

"Step away from him!" The woman behind me shrieked.

I did as requested, and the man hauled himself to his feet. He sent me a lazy, but triumphant grin. "Now the shoe's on the other foot, ain't it, you cheeky bitch?"

I grit my teeth. _Dammit! I had him! I _had _him! Why did I have to gloat? Stupid, stupid!_

He stopped staring at me and looked to the woman over my shoulder. "Shoot this mongrel, Nam."

My heart started pumping in my chest, panic building a lump in my throat.

"S-shoot her?" The woman asked, her voice quivering.

"Of course!" The man confirmed with a wicked glint in his dull eyes. "You saw what she did to me!"

"Y-yeah, b-but does she have to d-die?"

A growl ripped from the man's throat, and the woman squeaked in fear.

"Yes! Nobody makes a fool of me, Nam, nobody." The Seeker man barked.

"I-I know but—" She began in a small voice.

"Do it!" He snapped.

I turned around to look at the woman. She might be my only chance to come out of this alive.

She was a small, skinny woman with hallow, frightened eyes and quivering lips. Her pale skin was accompanied with a short chestnut-coloured bob and chocolate-brown eyes, making her resemble a very scared Snow White. She looked to be no older than twenty-five, and probably wasn't.

She held the gun I'd knocked away from the man pointed right at my head with shaky hands.

"Please," I said quietly, pleading with my eyes. "Don't kill me. I won't tell anybody you were here and I won't follow you."

I hated this. Pleading Seekers for my life? _How pathetic._ Even if this 'Nam' was probably being forced by the man, I felt downright _dirty _trying negotiate for my life with a Seeker.

Her brown gaze met mine and she bit down on her lip. "X, I-I can't do it!" She wailed, her grip on the gun quivering violently. "Y-you said y-you'd be the only one using the gun!

X's look of triumph wilted. "Fine," he grumbled, walking over to Nam and snatching the gun away. "Useless girl."

And just like that, my only chance of living through this was snatched away. My shoulders slumped and my eyes stung. This was it. I was really going to die.

Nam squeaked again, tears glistening in her eyes before she promptly buried her face in her hands.

X pointed the gun at me, and smiled. "Any last words, missy?" He asked.

I shook my head, bracing myself for the pain that was soon to come.

"Alright," X said, tilting the gun sideways as if to get a better angle. "Well, see you in hell."

I squeezed my eyes closed.

There was a loud _BANG! _as the gun fired, resonating through the night. I waited for the pain to start, or for the very least the shock to kick in. But I felt nothing.

Curiously, I slid my eyes open again and looked down at myself, expecting to see blood. In the dim moonlight, my navy suit was spotless with not a single hole, let alone a bullet wound.

I looked up at X and Nam, but everything was tinted blue. I blinked and glanced around me. I was in a blue crystal.

_A blue crystal?_

X, who was staring at me with a dumbfound expression, scowled and shot the gun again. And again. And again. Each bullet merely bounced off the big blue crystal harmlessly.

"W-what is it?" Nam asked, staring at the crystal in awe.

"I-I don't know!" X exclaimed, as if frustrated. He shot another bullet, only this time when it bounced off of the crystal, it nearly hit him.

"Ah! S-stop it, X!" Nam squeaked, grabbing his arm which held the gun. "One of those might hit us!"

"But what _is _she?" X asked her in a frustrated growl.

"I-I don't know!" She said with a fearful swallow. "But who knows what else she can do. L-let's just go!"

"Hmmm… I don't think so…" I slithery, familiar voice purred behind them.

"Wha—?" X managed before something hit him upside the head, and he fell forward, unconscious.

Nam soon followed, becoming a crumpled heap on the pavement.

As soon as the Seekers were knocked out, the crystal flickered and faded, leaving me wondering where it had come from in the first place.

Behind where the two Seekers once stood, now stood Ghirahim with a smug smile on his sinister features. Now _there's_ someone I never thought I'd be relieved to see.

"Thank—" I'd only begun to thank him before he glided up next to me and grabbed my right hand rather roughly.

"Your powers…" Ghirahim said with a look on his face that looked almost _transfixed. _"Finally… they have come in, Miss Sheik."

I wrenched my hand from his grip, feeling more than a little creeped out. Not that feeling creeped out around Ghirahim was some sort of anomaly or anything.

"What do you mean?" I asked, eyeing the unconscious Seekers warily. "I made that crystal?"

"The powers of your Triforce of Wisdom, of course." Ghirahim confirmed. "The ability to create a shield barrier is one of them."

I glanced down at my hand, the one with my tell-tale birthmark, and exhaled. _So you're not broken then, are you? _

"Mr. Agahnim will be pleased to hear about this." Ghirahim said with a slow smile that made my stomach churn apprehensively.

Why does it feel like such a bad thing to impress my boss?

* * *

I was in the temple again. The three mysterious stones still floated above the black marble altar, the fibres of the cushy red carpet were still squished between my bare toes, and golden sunshine still shone brightly through the large windows. I was still clad in my pajamas.

Without anything else to do, I made my way toward the altar again.

The each of the shimmering stones shone in the sunlight as I approached. I reached out and touched the blue one. The jewel bounced and bobbed in mid-air, spinning and reflecting sunshine prettily.

"You really seem to like those, don't you?" A voice breathed in my ear.

I squeaked in surprise as I always did, then whirled around to glare at the perpetrator.

Just as I'd suspected, Link stood there, smiling down at me softly—no, smiling down at me _hotly_. This time, he had a pair of blue flannel pajama bottoms and a black tank-top on top. I wasn't sure whether or not to be disappointed by this fact, seeing as him wearing a shirt meant I wouldn't be distracted by his sinfully sculpted abs…but it also meant that I couldn't _see_ those sinfully sculpted abs—_Oh, have some dignity, please?_

"They're…cool." I said lamely—referring to the stone, not his abs, though admittedly, those were pretty cool too.

Quite abruptly, his slight smile dropped right off of his face.

"Well, I knew that wasn't exactly the most enthralling answer, but no need to give me that look." I said, feeling a pout form on my lips.

He shook his head, dismissing my assumption, and stepped a little closer to me. He gently brushed aside my bangs, and I'm sure I heard his breath catch.

"What?" I asked.

"Is this… a bruise?" He asked, his sandy brow knit together in slight anger.

I remembered the bruise the Seeker man X had given me, and quickly slapped a hand over my temple, wincing as I agitated the tender spot. "No." I lied.

Link stared at me a moment, unimpressed by my lie. "You've got to do better than that if you want to convince me." He said.

I nibbled on my lip nervously, which also hurt because I'd bit it so hard on that mission. I winced again.

"Your lip, too?" He asked softly, taking my chin in the same way he had last time—

"Don't!" I exclaimed, freeing my chin from his grasp and stepping back. Figment of my imagination or not, I wasn't about to let him almost kiss me again.

He raised an eyebrow, and took a step toward me. "What are you hiding?"

_Everything. _"Nothing." I said, forcing a lie.

His blue eyes softened with sympathy. "Did someone do this to you?"

"No." I mumbled, adverting my gaze.

"Then why won't you look at me when you say it?"

I let out a grunt of frustration. "Oh, why do you even care? You never took any interest in me in the other six months you were at Ordon." I bit out. "Besides, you're a figment of my mind. You should already know what I know."

"Well, I don't, so enlighten me." He countered. His voice softened. "Zelda, if your guardian is abusing you—"

I took another step away from him. "She would _never _abuse me!" I snapped.

And I meant it. Even though Impa had the tendency never to show much affection, I still knew it was there under her reserved exterior. She'd never, no matter how difficult life got, _ever _even consider beating me or Nab.

Seeing that I was serious, Link dropped the accusing tone in his voice. "Did someone—not your guardian, okay?—do this to you?" He repeated.

"Look, I was getting something out of my closet and I tried to get something off of the top shelf. The whole shelf came down and hit me in the head." The lie rolled off of my tongue convincingly, but even so, he didn't seem like he fully believed me.

"Then why didn't you tell me this right away?"

"Well, it's not exactly the kind of story that makes you seem like you've broken out of the dumb-blonde stereotypes." I said dryly, retaining my usual sarcastic tone.

He exhaled, still holding my gaze. "Fine. I'll believe you for now, but," A smile tilted those delicious lips. "I'm not a figment of your imagination."

I blinked once. "Yes, you are." I said with confidence, and glided past him to sit down at the stairs leaning up behind the altar.

Looking amused, he followed and plopped down next to me. "What makes you so sure?"

"I remember waking up last time." I told him.

"Well, would it blow your mind if I said I did too?" He asked.

"Nope." I popped the p for emphasis.

One of his tawny eyebrows disappeared under his cutely scruffy bangs. "Why not?"

"Because you've got no proof. And I would expect you to argue with me." I clarified then smiled, as if to say '_Beat that!'_.

Apparently taking up my unspoken challenge, Link smiled and ran his index finger over the length of my nose. "You don't have any proof either. And so would I."

I frowned, internally admitting he was right. "Well, you can think what you want then," I sniffed, indignant. "But I know the truth."

"Ditto." He nodded.

"I woke up," I insisted. "I really did. I remember it perfectly."

"No way." He said, shaking his handsome head.

"Why not?"

"Because there's no way you're _that _creative."

"And you are?"

"You'd be surprised what the teenage male mind can conjure up at night. Especially when it includes girls from school in large t-shirts."

I wrinkled my nose, looking away to hide my blush. "Yucko. That's really too much info, you know."

He chuckled. "Well, what about you? Are you suggesting that you dream of me shirtless?"

More heat filled my face. "Shut up. I mean, it's not like I think about it all the time." _Well, I shouldn't have said that. Now I've admitted that I think about that sometimes. Stupid!_ "Or at all." I added, a yawn stifling my words.

"You're tired in a dream?" He asked.

I yawned again. "Cue the _Inception _music."

He laughed and I gave him a small smile. His face softened, and he reached over to trace a cautious thumb over my cheekbone, leaving a line of fire wherever he traced.

"This is what I mean when I say you're special, Princess." He murmured. "I've never met a girl so… natural to be around."

I was probably the shade of a tomato. "I'm…not. I mean, not really." I protested weakly.

He cocked his head slightly, then shook it. "You are. And that's why you've interested me." He was leaning toward me.

I wanted to kiss him. Oh my good Goddess, did I ever want to kiss him. But… how awkward would that be in real life? Having to see him each day, knowing I'd totally dreamt about making out? No. No, thank you.

"No!" I reached over and slapped a hand over his stupidly kissable mouth.

"Why not?" He mumbled against my hand. "You were fine last time."

"That was…" I trailed off, blinking. "That was an accident. You know?"

He reached up and captured my hand that had been covering his mouth in his. "An accident?"

"A mistake." I corrected, then winced. _Out loud, that sounds kind of mean…_

"So what?" He asked, raising an eyebrow with an amused expression. "Were you aiming for someone else's lips but mine got in the way?"

I felt even the blood in my toes flow into my face. "I—I mean that it shouldn't have happened in the first place."

With a sigh, he released my hand and leaned back to rest his elbows on the top stairs. "These dreams of mine are getting too accurate."

"What do you mean?" I asked, folding my hands in front of me.

"I mean I'm letting them get too real. I know for a fact the real you wouldn't let me kiss you either."

"I _am _the real me." I said. "And you're right, I wouldn't." _Not that, against my better judgement, I wouldn't want you to. _

He smiled, staring up at the marble ceiling. "Still so stubborn."

* * *

**Whew! That's it! Now, onto that much-needed explanation.**

**First of all, a week or so after the last update, my laptop broke because I'm a huge dumbass who thinks it's a good idea to slam her laptop closed with headphones between the monitor and the keyboard -.- Stupidity thy name is me! So yeah, since the monitor broke and my laptop was kinda old, my parents insisted I get a new one instead of just repairing it. I was game, except it meant I lost any progress I had on my fics (which was about 10 pages of this story, 6 pages of A New Legend-I am very slowly still working on that!-, and 2 pages of Royally Screwed). Then after I purchased my new laptop, I went through some ****_serious _****writer's block because I was trying to rewrite all my stories all by memory and that just made my brain go ****_kapoot! _****And ****_then, _****last week, I went on vacay with my folks, which didn't allot me much time to finish up the chapter. So, again, sorry all this crap that happened. The next update shouldn't take nearly as long. **

**Thanks for reading this balls-tasticlly long explanation! This time, you deserve an entire metaphorical cake! **

**Leave a review if you enjoyed! :)**


	7. FA Day

**Miss me? This chapter took me longer than I thought it would to write. UGH! Can you guys believe school's coming up in a few short weeks? NOOO! I swear summer only started, like, yesterday!**

**Anyway, ignore me and my pre-school woes. Please enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

**THIEF**

**Chapter seven—F.A. Day**

* * *

"Attention all students!" The overly perky voice of the student Council President had said over the P.A. "Get ready to have fun and meet new people, because today is F.A. Day!"

F.A. Day stood for Friendship Appreciation Day. Which, come to think of it, was a weird title as it wasn't something we did to appreciate our _current_ friendships, as it was an excuse to create new ones. It was some dumb school spirit thing that the student council came up with a few years back, and kept on doing as a tradition every year after, even though virtually _no one _liked it. It's basically _Meet-Your-Classmate_. In each homeroom, the teacher collects half the class' names and hands them out to the other half, and then _congratulations! _You're stuck with this person for an entire hour. Usually, we go outside either around the school, or to the park across the street and "Get to Know" your partner. Well, that's what Student Council was going for, but it's commonly known that most people just either sit in an uncomfortable void of silence or have incredibly forced small-talk. That's why F.A. Day is usually sprung on us when we aren't expecting it; because everyone would skip if they could.

Once I had heard the announcement in the morning, I'd shared everyone else's collective groan. I never liked the school-spirit day. I supposed the idea of it was to make new friends, but since I wasn't exactly in the market for one, this whole thing felt redundant. I even set an alarm on my phone to let me know the exact time when the hour would be up.

Ruto had once said that there's a possibility to be paired up with some total hottie who turned out to be your soul-mate, I suppose to try and lighten my dread. I think she's letting my romance novels go to her head, or maybe she's just the type of person who thinks the glass is always half-full—always searching for the bright-side in every crappy situation.

Even so, I couldn't say I wasn't hoping my soul-mate might pull my name from Mr. Gorman's hat when I felt someone tap me lightly on the shoulder and heard a distinctly male voice declare, "I pulled your name."

And that's why I was currently marching down a park trail, wearing the fiercest scowl I could conjure; because F.A. Day sucks.

"How long are you going to keep pouting?" A voice said behind me.

I shot a glare over my shoulder and stuck my tongue out at the owner of the voice. "Until the two hours are up." I whipped my head forward again and narrowed my eyes on the gravel path below my feet. "I still can't believe _you _pulled my name."

Link sighed, shaking his head. "So you hate my company this much?"

"Yes." I said plainly.

In truth, I actually didn't hate his company. At all, really. But therein lies the problem; logic tells me I _should _hate his company. But a couple of dreams where we almost kiss is enough to convince me that I was obviously getting a little too comfortable around him. Clearly, I need to break off this mildly friendly acquaintanceship we have—if you could even call it that—before I become another notch on Link McCormick's belt.

"Ouch," He said, coming up next to me. "That hurts."

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess, your first time being rejected?"

He ran a hand through his hair and smiled. "Yeah, actually."

_Gods, _I thought. _Curse him and his stupid sexy smile. _Some foliage tickled my shin, and I forced myself to become frigid again.

"You know, I think the idea of F.A. day is to _talk _to your partner and get to know them." Link said, crooking an eyebrow at me. "Then again, I am still relatively new to Ordon, so I could be wrong."

I sighed. "Look, I'm not really in the mood for witty banter today, okay?"

And I was serious about that, too. From that mission a couple days ago, I'd received a whopping bruise on my abdomen, another particularly tender bruise on my temple, a cut lip, and the scare of a lifetime. Oh, and apparently the ability to create blue crystals of protection around myself—which I _now_ have to worry about showing to my boss ASAP, even though I'm clueless on how to do it. Not to mention, Nab still hasn't forgiven me for what I said the other day, Impa is still acting weird and there's _still_ no one for me to vent to. Between the worries and injuries, sleep hasn't come easily for me lately, resulting in a very unhappy Zellie.

"Well, there goes all my plans for today." Link said with a sigh.

"Sorry to put a damper on things. Oh wait, no I'm not." I replied sarcastically, continuing down the trail. For a few minutes we didn't talk, and I hoped it would stay like that.

"Why are you so pissed-off?" He suddenly asked, a small bit of annoyance colouring his tone.

I spun around to face him, surprised to find the slightest glimmer of concern in his gaze. I shook my head to clear it and forced myself to talk. "I… I'm just not sleeping well lately. It's made me really…" I trailed off.

"Bitchy?" Link filled in the blank.

I glared up at him, then shook my head and turned back to the trail. "I was going to say irritable, but thanks."

A short silence filled the warm, pre-summer air. Suddenly, I felt him latch onto my wrist and tug me off of the trail.

"Hey! What are you—?"

"Doing? I'm cheering you up, or at the very least diminishing some of your annoyance." He replied, pulling me down a man-made path that veered off of the trail.

I raised a brow, but allowed him to drag me on, just out of curiosity of where he was planning to take me. "If you think you're taking me somewhere private for a make out session, I decline." I said.

He glanced back at me. "A make out session wasn't exactly what I had in mind." I didn't miss the mildly suggestive hint in his voice.

I shook my head, feeling my face darken with blush. "I won't… I won't do _that _either."

He laughed. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Princess. I only want to show you something."

Sceptically, I let him tow me through the bushes, several unidentified plants and shrubs skimming my bare legs and irritating the skin. With the luck I've been having lately, I wouldn't be shocked if I happened to get poison ivy. I was about to open my mouth and ask where exactly we were headed, when the sound of running water filled my ears. It was a soft, trickling sound, probably from a small stream.

"It's right here," He murmured, giving me one final tug through a particularly thick cluster of trees and shrubs.

I stumbled up next to him, having hooked my foot of a tree root.

"Thanks." I huffed sarcastically, straightening myself to my full height. When I looked up, however, my breath caught halfway down my throat.

I stared at the scene in front of me in awe. I took in the stone-lined stream that filtered into a sparkling pool of luminescent water, which seemed to reflect a whole rainbow of colours. The mid-morning sun shone over the little pond, making the lush greenery that surrounded it seem even greener and more alive.

"Pretty," I murmured in an awestruck daze.

Next to me, Link chuckled softly. "Feel better now?"

I blinked up at him, letting a small smile tug at my lips. "Actually I do." I admitted.

He returned the smile—leaving me a little dazed—and plopped down on a nearby boulder. "Sit." He told me, patting the space on the boulder next to him.

I relented, pulling my knees up to my chest as I watched the spring water trickle into the pond.

"So, how'd you find this place?" I mumbled against my knee.

"Sometimes I take treks into the woods," He replied. "I found this place a few weeks ago."

I nodded and rested my chin atop my knee, not saying anything.

"Want to play a game?"

I looked up and met his gaze, raising a sceptical brow. "Game?"

He met my raised brow with his own. "You know, a competitive activity involving skill, chance, or endurance on the part of two or more persons who play according to a set of rules, usually for their own amusement or for that of spectators?"

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you, smartass. I meant what _kind _of game?"

"It's pretty simple," He said, angling his body toward me on the boulder. "It's basically rock, paper, scissors with a twist."

I frowned. "What kind of twist?"

A sly smile crossed his features. "If I win a round, I ask you a question which you have to answer. If you win, you ask me."

"No deal." I chimed in, shaking my head and letting my legs dangle back off the side of the boulder. "What if I don't want to answer one of your questions, or vice-versa?"

Link pondered this. "Fine. How about this?" He gave me a pointed look. "You can pass on any question you want, but if you do, I can keep asking you questions until you answer one. Sound fair?"

I considered the offer. "Okay, I accept the rules of your game."

For the first round, I picked scissors and he picked rock. I cursed profusely at my loss, and re-pulled my legs up to my chin, pouting as I said, "Ask away."

"Favorite colour?" He asked, smiling lightly at my indignant show.

I blinked, surprised he hadn't asked about my virginity or something equally as embarrassing. "Blue." I said. "Or purple. I like ivory and pink too. But all pastels, none of those really bright colours. They make my eyes hurt."

The next round, I won; paper to rock.

"Least-favorite food?" I asked.

"Peanut butter." He answered simply.

"No way," I said, gaping. "Peanut butter is awesome."

"Too dry."

"You sir," I pointed at him. "are missing out."

I won another round.

I tapped my chin. "Favorite ice-cream flavor?"

"Anything that's soft-serve."

I laughed. "Me too."

He won; I won. I told him how I never eat anything that's ever swam in the ocean; he told me how he hates the scent of bananas. We carried on like this, until eventually, it became like clockwork. Someone won, the other answered; rise, repeat.

"Ever had a boyfriend?" He asked, covering my hand with his.

I blushed. "Never even been asked out on a date." I admitted.

"What about you?" I asked, after I beat him. "I know you've had a girlfriend before,"—_Several, actually._ I added silently—"But how old were you when you had your first?"

"Seven."

I looked at him dubiously. "You're joking."

Link held up his hands. "I kid you not, I had my first official girlfriend at seven. Our relationship didn't go past holding hands on the playground, though." He said with a shrug.

I snickered. "You gotta start somewhere."

"Favorite movie?" I asked, cutting his paper with my scissors.

"I think I'll go with _Citizen Kane._"

"Oh, a classic. Aren't you cultured?" I teased, then immediately lost my smile when he won the next round.

"What's _your _favorite movie?" He asked.

I fingered the hem of my shorts thoughtfully. "I don't watch many movies, but I like _Titanic_." I blushed. "A romance, I'm sure you're surprised to find."

"What's up with you and your romance novels, anyway?" He asked, leaning back on his hands.

I blinked. That was just about the last thing I expected from him. "I…uh, you have to beat me in order for me to answer that."

"Fair enough."

He won the round anyway. Which sucked, since I'd hoped to give myself some time to come up with a not-so-cheesy way to explain my intrigue with the teen-romance genre. Since I didn't really have time to fabricate a reason, and I wasn't too fond of the idea of passing and making him think I simply enjoyed reading steamy kissing scenes, I had to tell the truth. No matter how sappy or dumb it sounded.

"Well…" I said slowly. "I-in the novels, the ones that I read anyway, the main characters usually have something they need to overcome, whether it's a death in the family, a traumatizing memory or something else."

I swallowed thickly and clenched my hand into a tense fist, before continuing. "But they _do _overcome it by the end of the book, and they get to fall in love and live like a normal, happy person. I guess I just like how they always have a happily ever after, even though there was hardships along the way. I find it reassuring, like maybe I might be so lucky someday. Stupid, right?"

I scratched my nose and blinked, fighting off the prickle in my eyes. I always got like this when I thought too far into the future; when it occurred to me that I'd probably never have this happy ending at the end of my books—my other incarnations never did, according to the stories. They were all forced into loveless marriages with people they hardly knew, or died young, or met some other tragic fate. I probably wouldn't be any different.

Of course, I couldn't tell him _that _part, which only made me more frustrated. But I really didn't want to cry in front of him—which I knew I would if I didn't get a hold on my emotions.

Link cocked his head, then made the scissor shape with his hand, bumping it under my clenched fist. "It's not stupid in the slightest, Zelda."

The emotion that had tightened my throat loosened a little, and I smiled, dropping my eyes to our hands. "Does this mean I won this round?"

He smiled back. "Yes. And you've just used up your question for it, too."

I poked his chest. "Hey! No fair!"

He smirked. "Sometimes life's not fair."

"Rematch." I said with narrowed eyes.

I won, but I think he let me win on purpose. It was… kinda sweet.

"Tell me about your family." I said, resting my chin of my knees and wrapping my arms around my legs.

"That's a request, not a question." Link pointed out.

"Okay," I admitted. "How about this? If you answer my request you can ask two questions next round. Deal?"

"Sure, bit-sized Harkinian. I accept your bargain." He fixed me with his patented crooked smile. "I live with three other people; my cousin, his fiancée and my legal guardian. You've already met one of them."

"Ashei." I recalled. "I take it she's your cousin's fiancée?"

He nodded, absent-mindedly flipping his bangs from his blue eyes. "Yeah. Well actually—Shad, my cousin—he's not _really _my cousin. We _are_ related though; he's my great-uncle's grandson."

"Second-cousin?" I asked.

"He's a cousin of some kind, I'm sure."

I laughed.

"Harkinian, have you ever heard of _Telma's_?" He suddenly asked, catching me off guard.

"Yeah," I said slowly, wondering where he was going with this. "You mean that big chain of Hylian-run pubs?"

He nodded. "Well, my guardian is Telma."

I gaped. "Wouldn't that make you, like, rich or something?" I questioned stupidly.

He shrugged. "Yup."

"But you have a job…?" I asked, knitting my brow.

"One day I want to pay Telma back for taking care of me for the last thirteen years of my life," Link sighed. "Even though I doubt she'll accept it, I want to get a head start on collecting the money I owe her."

"Wait. Thirteen years? You haven't been there your entire life?" I blurted.

He blinked, then frowned. "No, I… my dad died when I was five. I only remember my father," Slight bitterness entered his voice. "My mother walked out shortly after I was born."

Already, I wanted to shove the question back down my throat and swallow it whole. "I'm… so sorry." I murmured, drawing idle patterns on the surface of the boulder. "I didn't mean to pry."

He shrugged and looked away. "It's fine. I could've passed if I wanted to."

I bit my lip, not liking the change in atmosphere. To distract myself from what I'd said, I scooted closer to him and forced a smile. "Alright. You can ask your questions now."

He glanced down at me, then ever-so-slowly, a smile crept onto his lips. "Actually, I'd like to make a request of my own, if that's okay?"

"Sure," I said slowly, not liking that mischievous look in his eye.

The smile grew larger and I started to feel a little nervous. He leaned down, and for a split second I thought he was going to try to kiss me—for real, this time. But he merely tucked my hair behind my ear and whispered, "Tell me what you look for in a guy."

I just stared at him wordlessly for a moment, before a deep blush worked its way onto my face. "Wh-why do you care?" I asked, glaring holes into the boulder.

I heard him laugh, which only deepened my flush. "You can pass if you want to, remember?"

I was tempted to do exactly that, but I was also a little afraid of what else he'd cook up for me. After all, the question really wasn't _that _bad.

"Well," I began. "I guess I'm looking for someone nice with a good sense of humor, but also the ability to be serious."

He waved for me to continue.

I blushed darker. "That's it." I said, with a feeble shrug.

Link raised a brow. "He doesn't have to be smart, or tall, or good-looking?"

I flicked an imaginary piece of lint my shirt. "No. I don't expect to find the perfect male specimen. How can I expect someone to accept all my flaws without accepting all theirs too?"

A moment of silence floated between us. I cautiously looked up to find him smiling at me.

"What?" I asked, shifting my weight slightly and playing with some of my hair.

He shook his head and looked off into the spring, still keeping that thin smile on his face. "I've asked a lot of girls that question before. You were the first one who gave me an answer like that."

I tried not to think about why he'd ask a lot of other girls that. "Well, maybe you were asking the wrong girls."

He looked back at me and tilted his head slightly. "Maybe." He said softly.

For a long stretch of time, neither of us spoke; we merely stared at one another. _Those eyes. _Once again, I found myself marvelling at just how painfully beautiful his eyes were. It was hard not to, really—they were practically like shards of sapphire in his face. He seemed to be studying me as well. Those eyes flicked between the length of my hair; my eyes; and maybe it was just my imagination but, it looked like he focused on my mouth for a few seconds before sliding his gaze back to meet mine.

There was nothing awkward or uncomfortable about the long silence, if anything, it felt completely natural.

And then my right thigh started to vibrate.

_Pop! _went the comfortable atmosphere and blush spread across my cheeks in an instant. _Gods! I just stared at his for like, a minute straight! _I thought as I reached into my pocket and fished out my cell, turning off the alarm I'd set.

"Um," I mumbled, staring at the phone screen. "The hour's up."

"Already?"

I nodded and slipped off the boulder. Next to me, he did the same.

"Well," He said, straightening his t-shirt and sending me a lop-sided grin. "That was interesting."

I put the edge of my phone to my lips and stared at it, unsure of what to say. I didn't know what I _could_ say, because for the first time since F.A Day started two years ago, I really enjoyed myself.

* * *

I was sitting on my bed with my laptop and English binder in front of me. I tapped my pen against my teeth as I brainstormed ideas for my English essay I.S.U due in a couple of weeks. Mr. Owlan had demanded that our essays be on an original topic, rather than a topic that he's seen repeated year after year. It really was a feat easier said than done—even after _hours_ of brainstorming, I have yet to find something "unique" to write about.

_Should I write about phycology? No. Sexism? Nope, everyone does that. Legalizing gay marriage? Another topic everyone always does. _

I fell back against my pillow and sighed. "School's tough," I muttered out loud. "Nab had it so much easier as a teenager."

I stared up at the white, vaulted ceiling of my room, eyeing the glow-in-the-dark flower stickers stuck there. When I was younger, I had been petrified of the dark. I used to sleep with this huge beside lamp on before Impa had bought me the stickers, promising me it would keep the darkness away. And in my young, naive mind, it did.

I lifted my hand and traced the round, cute shape of the flowers in the empty air. I paused, staring at the back of my hand. I sat up and ran my thumb over the Triforce mark, right over the bottom-left triangle. Mine.

_Maybe I should write about you? _I thought, cocking my head thoughtfully.

I smiled and grabbed my pen, scrawling in my binder: _Who was the Princess of Destiny? _

Since my last visit to HTPA Headquarters, I've been doing a little research about myself and my Triforce. I was not about to allow myself to look stupid in front of my boss again.

I drew a messy circle around the title and started writing everything I knew:

**_-wielder of mysterious power called Triforce of Wisdom_**

**_-born in five different incarnations over past three-thousand years (Once as a frigging Goddess!)_**

**_-said to be a quick-thinker, fast on her feet, and a natural leader_**

**_-natural archer _**

**_-Princess then Queen of Hyrule 3 out of 5 incarnations (Not bad, if I do say so myself)_**

**_-able to wield great fairies' spells without the Spell Crystals—Natural abilities (Why does the Hero and Power Wielder get all the cooler powers?)_**

**_-said to have fallen in love with the Chosen Hero_**

My pen slipped from my hand and rolled off the side of my bed. I stared at the last point I'd written, flush drifting up my neck and into my cheeks.

"Stupid," I muttered. "Those are just stories. There's no real proof they were ever a couple."

I retrieved the pen and scribbled out the last line, feeling foolish. She—or rather, _I—_ never even married him. True, it was confirmed by history that most, if not all, of her—Damn, I mean _my_—husbands cheated on her because she only put out once to have kids… but that doesn't necessarily mean her—My—heart belonged to the hero, right?

I sucked in my cheeks contemplatively. _No, it doesn't. _

A knock on the door startled me.

I closed my laptop. "Come in." I called.

I had expected Impa to peek in, since Nab was still at work and still pissed at me.

"Phone," She said, shaking the receiver at me. "It's Malon."

I slipped off my bed and took the phone from her. "Hello—?"

"Why haven't you been answering my texts?" Malon snapped from the other side of the line.

"My phone's dead." I said defensively.

Malon tutted. "You dingus."

"Hey, I take offense to that derogatory term!" I said. "What's up?"

"Prom!" Malon exclaimed. "Our first ever junior prom!"

I rolled my eyes and fell backward on my bed. "Oh, you mean that thing you and Ruto wouldn't shut up about at lunch?"

"That exactly." She said, satisfaction dripping from her tone. "And guess what?"

"What?"

_Dramatic pause. _"Everyone has a date!" Malon blurted. "Well, everyone but you and me."

I sat up. "Really? When did this happen?"

"After school today." Malon answered.

"Ruto?"

"She's with some guy called Finn."

"Ilia?"

"This cutie named Malik asked her."

"Saria?"

"Mido finally grew a spine."

"Even Mid?" I asked, surprised. Not that Midna wasn't gorgeous and one of my best friends, but boys tended to avoid her because of her interest in magic. It was really stupid and I never really understood it, but it had been reality. I guess it wasn't anymore.

I could practically _hear_ her eyebrow raising. "I won't tell her you asked like that, but yeah. The guy she was stuck with for F.A Day ended up asking her after school too. His name's Topher. He's pretty cute, too. Something good actually came out of that dumb school spirit thing. Go figure, huh?"

I ran my free hand through my hair, everything slowly sinking in. "Wow. We suck."

Malon giggled. "We don't suck. We just intimidate all the boys with our beauty."

I snorted. _Not gonna argue with you there._

"Anyways," Malon drawled. "We're going dress shopping this Saturday. You can pick me up and we'll go to _LaBelle's_ together to meet up with the others."

_Labelle's _was Ordon's only dress shop. The dresses there ranged from cute little sundresses, to prom gowns, to full out wedding dresses.

Malon kept droning on about what dress she was hoping to find. "I'm thinking something green for me—It goes with my hair colour. And for you we should look for something with a sweetheart neckline, ya' know? 'cause it makes your boobs look bigger, and no offence Zellie, but you really need it. Oh! And you also need heels—!"

"Whoa, whoa, hang on." I said, holding up my hand even though she couldn't see it. "Mal, I can't exactly afford a dress."

Malon cut off her rambling and went silent for a second. "Oh Gods, Zellie. I'm so sorry. I forgot you were…" She trailed off.

_Poor? _I added mentally. Okay, so I wasn't _poor _per se. I mean, we had no trouble paying the bills or keeping food on the table, but we didn't have much in terms of luxuries. My laptop was our only computer, not counting the ancient, clunky PC in Impa's room, which took literally _ten minutes_ to boot up properly (I mean, who even uses dial-up anymore?) Our kitchen appliances look like they're on loan from the early 1990's, as does the rest of our furniture. Even so, I couldn't really complain. I could go to school and _not_ live underground, which is a far better trade in my opinion.

"Don't worry about it." I said. "I'll still come dress shopping with you guys. I just won't buy a dress or go to prom. No biggy."

"Oh, okay." Malon said slowly, guilt evident in her voice. "So, um, Saturday, 'kay?"

"Yup." I tried to sound bright to diminish some of her guilt. "See you."

"Bye." The line went dead.

I pressed _end_ and slapped the phone down on my night stand. Peanut, who had been contently sleeping at the end of my bed, jumped out of her sleep and stared at me with accusatory eyes—as if to say, _"What's your problem?" _

I frowned. _What _is _my problem? _

There was a soft knock on my door. Without bothering to wait for an answer, Impa pulled open the door and stepped into the doorway.

"What was that about?" She asked, slipping her thin reading glasses off her nose.

"Prom." I said with a shrug. "Malon and the others wanted to go dress shopping."

Her brow knit together. "And what did you say?"

I blinked up at my guardian. "What do you think? I said I'd go, but I wasn't going to buy anything. We don't exactly have a hundred rupees kicking around to waste on a dress I'll wear once."

Impa looked at me for a moment, then leaned against the doorframe. "Would you have wanted to go if we did?"

I shrugged. "I guess. But, Imps, I'm totally fine with not going. It's really not a big deal."

She frowned, then shook her head and slipped her glasses back on. "Well, get ready. We'll be off to HTPA as soon as Nabooru gets home."

I felt myself pout. "Do we _have_ to? I mean, I know Mr. Agahnim wants to know when I develop my powers, but I don't even know how to control them yet."

Impa fixed me with a warning look and I lost my pathetic expression.

"Just be glad I was able to convince Mr. Agahnim to push it back this far. If it had been up to him, you would've been brought to HTPA the very night you discovered your Nayru's Love."

I grimaced. "Fine. I'll go, but I can't guarantee I won't mope."

* * *

Hours later, we were sitting in the waiting room outside of Mr. Agahnim's office again. Mr. Agahnim's ray-of-sunshine assistant Veran was still typing and clicking up a storm on her computer, just like last time. I wondered if I were to sneak up on her if she would just be playing a game of solitaire.

Almost as if she'd read my thoughts, Veran looked up from her computer screen and sent me a haughty look. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, glaring down at my ugly—whoops! I mean 'sensible'—dress shoes.

"Miss Harkinian and… company, you may enter Mr. Agahnim's office, now." Veran sniffed after a while of this awkward silence.

I was steadily starting to hate this secretary.

I stood up and made my way to the big metal doors that led into Mr. Agahnim's office a little warily. Just as they had the first time, the doors slid open swiftly with their signature _whoosh! _sound effect.

Just as he had a few weeks ago, Mr. Agahnim himself sat at the other end of the room, his face just as stern and intimidating as I remember.

"Ah, Miss Harkinian, Ms. Peers, and Miss Kingsford. Come. Sit." He gestured to the same cushy red seat I'd sat at before, only this time, there were three.

I tentatively plopped into the big armchair, uncomfortable despite the comfy seat. Impa and Nabooru followed, seeming just as hesitant.

A few minutes ticked by and neither of us said a thing. Finally, my boss broke the silence.

"Miss Harkinian," The way he said my name made me squirm. "It's come to my attention that one of your powers have finally revealed itself." There was this glimmer in Mr. Agahnim's golden eyes then. I wasn't sure what it was, whether good or bad, since the emotion dissolved before I could detect it.

"Yes." I answered, clutching my sweating hands in my lap.

"Yes what, Miss Harkinian?" Mr. Agahnim asked.

I tensed. _This man just loves to belittle me._ "Yes, _sir." _I bit out.

"Excellent." Mr. Agahnim leaned back in his chair. "Show me."

I cringed. This was the part I had been dreading. "I can't." I admitted.

Mr. Agahnim's eyes tightened. "What do you mean you _can't?" _

I wished my hair was down so I could use it to cover my face, but it was back in an uncomfortable, super-tight bun that has been tugging at my scalp since I made it. "I-I don't really know how."

An agonizingly slow moment of silence ticked by.

"You have a power and you don't even know how you used it?" My boss asked. He didn't sound disappointed, he sounded almost… disgusted with my ineptitude.

It pissed me off.

"We can't all be the shining example of humanity, _sir._" I deadpanned. I wasn't entirely sure where I was finding the gull to be such a smartass with him, especially with my hands so clammy they felt like I had been holding ice cubes.

Next to me, Nabooru let out a little huff of air that I was fairly certain had to be a concealed snicker.

Mr. Agahnim didn't find this amusing, however, and sent me a sharp look. I immediately lost all my nerve and stared at my lap. Impa's gaze, which was drilling holes in the side of my head, wasn't helping either.

"Well," Mr. Agahnim sighed, as if I were being a terrible inconvenience. "I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this."

My head snapped up to look at him. Every time that line is said in a movie, the person who it was said to almost _always_ dies.

Mr. Agahnim stood from behind his dark wood desk, and I half-expected him to press a gun to my head. But instead, he turned his back to us and strode over to the abnormally large plaque that hung right behind his desk. He took the plaque off the wall and pulled a little converter from his pocket. After typing a password into the little silver square, the wall retracted slightly and jerked upward, revealing a safe.

I blinked. Whatever was in there had to be extremely precious. Not even the freaking _Triforce _had such good security.

Mr. Agahnim typed in yet another password into the keypad that was attached to the safe door and pulled the thick vault open. He turned around, a bundle of purple velvet in his hands.

"What is it?" I found myself asking in awe.

My boss sat back down in his chair, placing the velvet object in front of me. "See for yourself." He replied in a disinterested tone.

Cautiously, I tugged back the smooth fabric to reveal a book. Or, something that resembled a book, anyway. It was small and rectangular, about the size of your average novel, with a smooth white leather cover adorned with gold designs and little gems. Right smack in the middle of the book was a golden triforce, with some sort of unidentifiable letters scrawled below it in gold. However, on all of the three sides of the book where the pages should've been revealed, was only more leather.

"I still don't understand, sir." I said, my brow furrowing in confusion. "It looks like a book without pages."

"See that writing, Miss Harkinian?" Mr. Agahnim said, gesturing to the strange letters on the cover. "When translated from Ancient Hylian, it says '_To the One of Wisdom'._"

I glanced down at the book without pages and ran my fingers over the letters. "So, you're saying it's for me?" I asked.

"That's indeed what I'm saying, Miss Harkinian." He confirmed, nodding. "I believe it was also written by you."

_In another life. _I thought, running my fingers over the golden adornments.

"Now, that book hasn't been open in over seven-hundred years." Mr. Agahnim said, leaning forward on his desk. "It's a priceless artifact and some of the only solid proof that the Princess and the Hero ever really existed."

I stared uneasily at the book. "How do you know?"

"It was found in a secret room at Hyrule Palace, with a letter carved out of stone which explained all of it." My boss explained. "It was apparently the journal of the last Princess of Destiny before yourself."

"Why are you giving me this, sir?" I wondered.

Mr. Agahnim stared at me, then lowered his voice. "Look closely at it's surface, Miss Harkinian."

I obeyed and gasped. The book was covered in a very faint, almost unnoticeable blue barrier. Like a dimmer version of the crystal I'd made to save myself.

"I believe you may be the only person who can open this book, Miss Harkinian." Mr. Agahnim continued, sending me an intense look. "And possibly the only person who can read it."

* * *

We were walking across the dark parking lot of HTPA. Nabooru, despite the laugh I'd managed to get out of her in Mr. Agahnim's office, was still not speaking to me. Impa, on the other hand, had her arm slung across my shoulders in a comforting way.

"I can't believe he's letting me take this home with us." I said, staring down at the protective briefcase I'd been given to hold the journal.

"The book may reveal a lot about your powers, dear." Impa told me. "You should be very happy to have it."

I nodded. "I am. Really. It's just a huge responsibility to take care of an artifact."

"It should be fine, after all, the thing's in impeccable shape as it is."

I smiled lightly and curled my fingers tighter around the briefcase handle. _Maybe, just maybe this book will reveal if I ever truly did have feelings toward the Hero._ I thought. _Then I can prove that HTPA has no reason not to trust me._

A heavy sigh left me. That would be nice, wouldn't it? Being able to piece a small part of my life back together again.

Suddenly, a car honked, startling me.

I glanced in the direction of the honk, checking whether that was the vehicle locking or if someone was just being a jerk. What I saw instead made my mouth go completely dry.

_So many… _I thought.

"What are those?" I asked in a shaky voice.

Impa looked in the direction I was pointing. "Oh. Those are HTPA's official armoured vehicles. That's why there are so many of them."

I blinked, hoping I was just seeing it wrong, but the image didn't change. There was row upon row of them; all those huge black cars with the big, shiny silver grilles. I tried blinking again, feeling panic well in my chest.

_It can't be…_

But it was. No matter how many times I blinked and denied it, the official HTPA armoured vehicles looked exactly like the black SUV that tried to run me down.

Someone from HTPA had tried to kill me.

* * *

**Wow! Plot twist that you all probably saw coming! :P **

**Anyways, this update took a little longer than I expected, but that's only because I changed it, like, a bajillion times before I was satisfied with it. And even so… nothing all that exciting even happens. I mostly focused on building Zelda's relationships in this chap, but it's kinda boring! I am a failure! ;_;**

**…Oh well. **

**Review, Follow, or Favorite If you enjoyed. The same old stuff I always say :)**


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